In This Time And Another
by thewolfling3491
Summary: Hermione Granger is starting her first year at Hogwarts, for the second time. How will the staff fare as they teach the woman they consider family and friend, as a child again? How will Miss Granger manage her school years? And will confined memories stay confined? (HG/SS)
1. Chapter 1

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter 1 – The Time Has Come

"The de-aging potion is the only option," Dumbledore sighs. "You were meant for this time and you need to live it."

"And my memories?" She asks.

"Locked away until you turn of age in this time," he responds. "It would be very confusing for an eleven-year-old you to have a lifetime of experiences and memories."

She tightly squeezed the hand of the tall, dark man standing next to her. He had been stiff and silent throughout the entire discussion. Until now.

"And what will happen when she turns seventeen and a lifetime of memories all come rushing back?" He asks, an undercurrent of venom in his normally silky-smooth tone.

"We will be there to help her," Dumbledore assures him. After a brief pause, he continues, "I know this is difficult, but she was never meant to live the life she has up until now. She was meant for this time and we must not change that."

She nods knowingly and the man next to her wilts slightly.

"I'll give you two a few minutes before we begin," Dumbledore says.

With an understanding in his twinkling bright blue eyes, the Headmaster quietly steps through the door at the back of his office.

When the door has closed, she turns to him, easily falling into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she pleads with him, "I never meant for this to happen."

"We knew that this was a possibility after he explained your little jump through time all those years ago," he acknowledges with a deep sigh.

She nods quietly, not having the heart to tell him that she'd known it was going to happen since the beginning of the Summer.

"Seven years is a long time," she complains.

"I know."

"Will you still love me?" She asks, honey colored eyes peering up into his endless black orbs.

Wrapping her more tightly in his embrace, he lays his head softly atop hers.

"Always," he promises.

Neither knew how long they had been standing in the comfort of the other's embrace until the Headmaster softly cleared his throat, signaling his return. Reluctantly, they broke apart, turning to face the man.

"This potion will turn you back to age eleven," he says, offering her the vial. "Then I will go into your mind and lock away all of the memories from the moment you feel out of this time."

"No," the dark man responds sharply. "If anyone is going to go messing around in her mind, it will be me."

The Headmaster sighs, but agrees, "Alright my boy, but nothing of this first life must remain. All memories and emotions must be locked away for now."

She accepts the vial, uncorking and downing the contents before she could lose her nerve. Nothing happens immediately, then slowly she started to change. She shrank in height, her curves disappear, and her face softens with a sense of innocence.

Within agonizing moments, where a grown woman had stood, was the young girl the dark man recognized from so very many years ago. However, her eyes remained the same, filled with experiences. She turned them on him once more, a deep sadness and hints of tears filling the brims of her eyes. Grabbing his hand, she slowly pulls a now too big ring off her left hand, and places it in his palm.

"Do it now," she begs. "Please Severus."

Without a word, he dove into her mind. He watches snippets of their life together over the last twenty years zip by. He gathers those memories meticulously, creating a door in her mind and locking them away tightly. Until the right time. With regret, he pulls himself from her mind. Looking deep into her eyes, he knows that he has been successful, as they are the innocent eyes of a child that hasn't known the horrors of the world.

She blinks rapidly and sways, the world spinning around her. Severus Snape quickly reached out a hand to steady her, guiding her gently to one of the soft winged backed chairs in the Headmaster's office.

"Careful Miss Granger," he bit out, the words falling bitterly from his lips.

"Thank you, sir, I'm not sure what happened. How did I get here?" She asks, turning away to face the Headmaster, who sits neatly behind his large desk.

"Some students experience a surge of magic the first time they are surrounded by magical beings Miss Granger," Dumbledore lies easily. "It's rare, but happened when you stepped onto the platform at King's Cross. One of the platform chaperones noticed you collapse and brought you to Hogwarts straight away."

"Oh," she answers, cringing at her silliness. "I'm so sorry to have caused problems."

"No problem at all dear," the Headmaster assured her. "Professor Snape here had just given you a mild calming draught, so hopefully you won't have any more episodes tonight as your magic adjusts."

Well, that explains the potion vial in her hand, she thought. Turning her eyes on the tall, dark professor, dressed from head to toe in black, she smiles.

"Thank you for your assistance Professor Snape."

For a brief moment, he is lost in her smile, the same smile of the woman he remembers, not the girl. Breaking himself out of the memory, he glares at her before turning and departing abruptly, his teaching robes billowing out behind him.

"You'll have to forgive Professor Snape, my dear," Dumbledore says at her hurt and confused look. "He tends to be a little grumpy right before the students arrive."

And just like that, Dumbledore brushed twenty years of history under the rug, treating little Hermione Granger as nothing more than a pawn in his bigger picture.

A knock at the door precedes the tall, stern witch as she sweeps into the office.

"Albus, what is wrong with Severus," she exclaims, "I haven't seen him this worked up in quite a while."

It was only then that she notices the young bushy haired girl sitting in one of the guest chairs. Briefly, she thought she had lost her mind. Memories of a similarly lost looking eleven-year-old girl overlap in her mind. A shocked gasp tears from her lips.

"Professor McGonagall, I'd like you to meet Miss Hermione Granger. She had a little incident at the train station, but she's doing fine and it ready to be sorted with the other first years. Would you mind taking her down to the others?" Dumbledore said, making strong eye contact, a warning in his gaze.

Blinking back tears, the Deputy Headmistress nods, "Of course Headmaster. Come along Miss Granger, we'll get you back to your classmates."

Without waiting, McGonagall left the office, expecting the young woman to follow her. As discreetly as possible, Minerva wipes the tears forming in her eyes. She isn't sure what Dumbledore has done this time, but he will be answering her questions very soon.

* * *

The brief hesitation from the Deputy Headmistress during the sorting ceremony goes unnoticed by everyone except the staff, many of which eyed her curiously since she had been doing the sorting for years and has never faltered.

But falter she does before calling out, "Hermione Granger."

The staff struggle to stifle their gasps of surprise, but obviously had failed judging by the frown crossing Dumbledore's face briefly, the collective silence of the students in the Great Hall, and the look of confusion on the tiny bushy haired girl that stepped up for her sorting.

Hermione sits upon the stool in front of the student body, and the sorting hat is gently placed on her head. The staff looks on in anticipation, even scowling Professor Snape who has been avoiding looking at the students at all costs, turns to watch.

"Hmmm, such a young age, but such a long life," the Sorting Hat mutters only for her to hear, causing Hermione to stare up at it quizzically. "Such knowledge and a drive to learn, but there is a fierceness and determination in you that is unmatched. Yes, that is where you belong."

"Gryffindor!" The hat shouts for all to hear.

Despite the shock, Professor McGonagall beams proudly while the staff clap with unmatched enthusiasm. Snape sadly nods his head before turning away again.

If anything seemed off to the students, they don't show it. The Gryffindor's welcome their newest member and the sorting goes on. Hermione Granger is shoved into the background of all their minds when one Harry Potter is called to be sorted.

* * *

Dumbledore called most of the staff for a meeting after the Start-of-Term Feast, the new professors Quirrell and Babbling being the exception. The staff room is filled, with concerned and heated discussions taking place. Only Dumbledore is still missing.

One Severus Snape sits in a dark corner, silently, fiddling with a small silver ring in his hands. His dark mood warning the others to keep their distance.

Suddenly, the flames within the massive stone fireplace turn green and out pops one Molly Weasley, followed by her husband, Arthur. They enter the fray, approaching Minerva McGonagall quickly to ask why they've been summoned for the first time in years. One by one, several others stubble out of the floo, all members of the Order of the Phoenix. They gather around the table, listening to the whispers, searching for information.

As if summoned by the last arrival, Dumbledore walks into the staff room. With a quick flick of his wand, a parade of chairs floats in from the back door and settles around the table.

"Please be seated everyone," the Headmaster requests.

"Is it true," Molly Weasley demands, before Dumbledore could get another word out.

All eyes turn expectantly to the Headmaster.

"Yes, it is. Hermione has been de-aged back to her eleven-year-old self, with her memories locked away until she turns of age," Dumbledore explains.

The commotion that follows is too frenzied to be brought to bay quickly. The assembled group mutter things like 'poor girl', 'how could he', and 'what about poor Severus'.

Poor Severus indeed, Snape thinks angrily. With that, he tightens his fist around the ring in his hand before launching himself out of his chair. The room is silenced instantly as the door slams shut behind him.

"We all knew that this day would come. Hermione was always meant for this timeline. This is why we maintained her cover as Hermione McGonagall for so many years both during school and her position here at Hogwarts, teaching Ancient Runes," Dumbledore explains, gaining the groups attention despite the dark mood and abrupt departure of the Potion Master.

"Hermione Snape," Professor McGonagall snaps roughly. "Though I was proud to claim her as my own, that was her name."

The occupants of the room turn toward Minerva in surprise, never having heard her take that tone with Albus.

"My poor girl was happy with her life. Married to a man she loved with a job she adored and you took that away from her. For what? Your blasted greater good. We are at peace! How do you know the world wouldn't just keep going if she had stayed the way she was?" McGonagall growls.

Several of the people in the room nod in agreement.

"Things had to be put back to right," Dumbledore insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Miss Granger was destined to grow up in this time and it is of vital importance that she does so. We all know that this peace will not last. Voldemort is gone for now, but not for good."

Many shudder at the name. No one speaks up against him again, but many still shake their heads, scowls on their faces.

"Now, Molly, she will need a home. Her parents never had a daughter in this timeline, so we will need to break the news to her soon. Your youngest boy and Mr. Potter already seem to be fast friends, so we need to place her with them," the old wizard insists.

Minerva gives a strangled cry, but remains silent. Molly grips her hand firmly before responding to Dumbledore.

"Wouldn't she be better off with Minerva again?"

"No," he answers firmly, "she will stay with you. The Order will cover the costs of an additional child. It is vital that she be with Harry."

The discussion was mostly done at that point, but arguments continued with concern for how to discuss her parents with the girl. Questions as to why she must be associated with Mr. Potter are asked. Dumbledore insists that he will take care of it and leaves without another word. The staff and Order member argue the points some more before giving it up as a lost cause and heading to their respective living areas. Molly gently pulls Minerva into a hug before following her husband through the floo.

Minerva McGonagall leaves the staff room and heads away from her rooms, making her way down to the dungeons. After winding through the corridors, she arrives at a heavy wooden door wrapped iron bands, with a heavy iron knocker in the shape of a wolf's head. She lifts the iron ring of the knocker, bringing it sharply down to the door twice.

She waits quietly in the corridor for a moment before the wolf opens his mouth.

It growls at her, "He won't see you."

She sighs deeply before turning and making her way back to chambers for the night, ready for what is likely to be a sleepless night.

* * *

Inside his chambers, Severus sits in his chair by the fire, a bottle of fire whiskey dangling from the fingers of one hand. The other hand continues to fiddle with the simple wedding band. The silver of the band catches the fire light and he stares at the two small stones, an emerald and a ruby set side by side.

He scowls down at the ring in his hands. He wants to throw it into the fire and be done with it, but his hand has stilled every time he tries. The only thing keeping him from doing it is knowing she will remember eventually. Disgusted with himself, he tucks the ring in the left breast pocket of his frock coat.

When he'd returned to his rooms, he had noticed immediately that things were different. The little knickknacks that she had littered the fireplace mantle had disappeared. Her section of the bookshelf was empty and desk had been cleaned out. The sweater that was always draped across the back of his chair, which he'd then toss across the back of the couch, was nowhere to be found. He didn't have to check the bedroom to know that her belongings were gone.

She had known what was going to happen and had prepared for it. She has made sure her things were cleared out and tucked away, so he wouldn't have to face the daily reminder of what he had lost. She has been thinking of him, but all he could see was that she had kept it from him. He was furious that she had known for sure that their time was limited and had let him go on believing that they'd had all the time in the world.

In his rage, he had trashed the place. He had broken her chair across the desk, tore down shelves from the bookcase, shattered all the glassware in the kitchenette with a burst of wayward magic, and put his fist through the glass front of his massive grandfather clock. The only thing spared was his chair and the bar.

It didn't take long before he has downed the entire bottle and passed out cold in his chair. Even though his drunk haze, he couldn't bring himself to make his way to their bed, where he would never forget the feeling of his wife sleeping next to him. Tonight at least, he couldn't bare anymore loss.

* * *

High up in Gryffindor tower, Hermione Granger sleeps among her fellow lions, completely unaware of the tremulous emotions running through the people who she had considered family and friends for the past twenty years. With her memories locked away, this blissful little Gryffindor is excited for the start of term, eager to learn about the magic that in her mind, she had only been introduced to a few months ago.

Little does she, Dumbledore, or even Severus Snape know, that the magic imbedded in the memories and emotions that have been locked away, is not quite so willing to remain dormant.

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for reading. This is just something that popped into my head last night and wouldn't go away. I have a good idea where this story is going to go, but unfortunately, I do not have any pre-written chapters! So, if you like the idea, hang with me through the not so scheduled updates and delays. Characters might seem a little out of character from time to time, but I'll explain soon enough. :)  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Also, a heads up, just a couple quick changes in chapter one, such as the name Hermione used (Hermione McGonagall original - if you don't want to go back).**

* * *

Chapter 2 – Memories in the Great Hall

 **September 2, 1991**

On the first day of term, Professor McGonagall sits down to breakfast well before many of the students are even up and about. Beside her, sat the great Albus Dumbledore, presiding over his kingdom. With the sudden reveal the previous evening, she couldn't help but start to feel more and more like a pawn, ruled by his growing sense of paranoia. Even though Voldemort had been gone for many years, Dumbledore still expects him to return to power. Despite her long friendship with the man, she isn't sure if she can forgive him his secrecy, plotting, and manipulating this time.

Just as she is about to speak to the man, Minerva's attention is pulled to the entryway of the Great Hall. A familiar figure with bushy brown hair appears in the doorway and Minerva McGonagall's mind is drawn back to a different time.

* * *

 **The Great Hall – September 1, 1971**

"Who is she Albus?" Professor McGonagall whispers urgently as one of her newest Gryffindor enters the great hall.

"I'm not quite sure," Dumbledore admits jovially. "It is quite the intriguing mystery though isn't it? Her name was not on the list of new students yesterday morning, but had showed up before dinner!"

Minerva had just been named the head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress two years prior, following the death of Professor Binns, whose ghost still taught History of Magic, but was fine leaving the other tasks to the living.

"I know that! I saw the list myself. Would you be serious for a moment," Minerva insists. "We need to speak to her, as soon as possible."

"Yes, yes. I am aware," Albus says. "At least let the girl have some breakfast. We can summon her to my office after."

That seems to settle the witch down a bit, as she returns to her breakfast, though she only picks at it. Her eyes often raise to the Gryffindor table, checking to see if their mystery student is finished yet.

In all her years as a student, and then a teacher, she had never heard of students magically appearing out of this air. This was a magical world, but some things were still outside of the realm of possibility for Merlin's sake! People don't just appear out of nowhere.

Once the young Miss Granger finished her meal, she pulls a large book from her bag. Giving Dumbledore a stern look, McGonagall pushes away from the table. In her usual, no-nonsense manner, she approaches the girl.

"Miss Granger," she addresses her, since her approach had not distracted the girl from the book in front of her. When the child looks up, McGonagall continues, "would you please follow me? The Headmaster and I would like to speak with you."

With that, she turns on heel to exit the great hall, leaving a scared and concerned Hermione Granger to follow in her wake. They quickly approach the gargoyle, Hermione practically running to keep up with her head of house.

"Marshmallow," the Professor announces to the stone creature, rolling her eyes at the continued absurdity of the Headmaster's passwords.

Hermione's eyes widen as the gargoyle jumps aside, revealing a staircase leading up. McGonagall gestures for the girl to step onto the stairs before following after her. As the stairs start moving, Hermione jumped slightly, grasping her Professor's arm to steady herself. Blushing wildly, she quietly apologizes, though Minerva assures her that it is fine.

Soon, they reach the top of the stairs, the Headmaster's door open and waiting for them. Hermione timidly enters the room, her eyes widening at all the shiny silver devices whizzing and whirling away on the shelf. Next her eyes are drawn to walls of magical texts, the subtle hum of magic radiating off of them, calling to her. She doesn't even notice the Headmaster's presence until he speaks.

"Have a seat my dear," he offers gently, gesturing to the two padded guest chairs in front of his desk. Once she complies, he offers, "lemon drop?"

Hermione politely declines, not having much of a sweet tooth due to her parent's profession.

"So, my dear, you must be wondering why we have called you here," Dumbledore says. "It seems that we have had a mix up in our new student list."

"No sir," Hermione exclaims instantly, fear coursing through ever part of her, "please, I promise that I will work really hard to be worthy of acceptance here. I know my parents aren't magical, but I will ..."

 _They can't take this away_ , she thinks wildly, _this is the first time the world has made sense to me. The first time I feel like I fit._

"Easy Miss Granger," he offers. "We aren't reconsidering your place here. You are indeed a witch and worthy of your place here, no matter your parentage."

Professor McGonagall glares at the Headmaster before stepping in.

"Dear, we are just curious because you showed up on our lists so suddenly. Did you receive a letter?" McGonagall asks.

"Yes, of course," Hermione asserts, promptly digging into her bookbag and pulling out the neatly folded parchment, offering it to her professor.

The older witch unfolds the letter and finds the familiar words of every letter sent out to new students. She sees her signature across the bottom. However, she pauses as her eyes fall upon the date printed in her familiar handwriting, and gasps as the answer to her question dawns on her. She is unable to form the words needed, so she simply passes the letter to Dumbledore.

The old wizard adjusts his half-moon glasses on his nose and quickly scans the letter, finding the same discrepancy that his colleague had found.

Written in McGonagall's neat handwriting, the letter reads, **Term begins 1 September, 1991**.

"Well my dear, we seem to have found the problem. Could you please explain how you happen to have traveled through time?" Dumbledore asks her rather plainly.

"Traveled through time?" Hermione asks, shocked at the implications. Her voice breaks as she answers, "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean sir."

However, her mind is racing. _If she had indeed traveled through time, then, when was she? How exactly did she time travel without knowing or noticing? And how was she going to get back?_

"Easy Miss Granger," the Headmaster repeats, having picked up on the thoughts racing through her head, fear plainly written across her face. "We will figure it out."

"Now can you explain what you did yesterday?" Minerva asks kindly, "I know magic is fairly new to you, but did anything seem off?"

"Not that I could tell," Hermione groans in frustration. "My parents dropped me off at King's Cross. They had an emergent dental surgery to get too and we'd been to the station many times, so they figured I would be fine on my own."

She pauses briefly, but both professors nod for her to continue.

"I went through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, just like the letter I received instructed me. I stumbled a bit going through, but kept my footing. On the train, I sat with two other first years, Lily and Severus. We were all happy to read the entire way here. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Hmmm, very odd indeed," Albus muses.

"Sir," Hermione inquires quietly, "if it isn't 1991, then what year is it?"

"It is September of 1971," the Headmaster answers gently.

The girl falls back against the chair in shock. McGonagall kneels by her side, gently grasping her hand and making soothing sounds.

"It's going to be alright Miss Granger," she assures the child.

"But how do I get home?"

"I'm afraid child, that it won't be possible. Since we do not know how you got here, we cannot know how to send you back," Dumbledore answers sadly, knowing it is not the answer she is looking for.

Hermione instantly began sobbing, the fear and the tears she had been holding back so far breaking free.

"But what ... about ... my home? And ... my parents?" She sobs.

Professor McGonagall pulls the girl into her arms, rocking her gently as she cries, in an attempt to help soothe her, but knowing that nothing she can do will help this hurt.

Dumbledore answers the questions that hung in the air as best he could without upsetting her anymore.

"For now, you will stay at Hogwarts. In the meantime, we will work to find a magical family to take you in."

The girl cries even harder, the grief so overwhelming.

"I'll take her," Minerva announces suddenly.

Both student and professor look at her like she'd just sprouted a second head.

"What?" McGonagall asks, before going on to defend herself against Dumbledore's questioning look, "She needs a home and I have one. I have no children or other obligations besides the school. Besides, she unfortunately cannot keep her name. If something were to happen to alter the timeline again it could be dangerous."

Turning her gaze towards the girl in her arms, she tries to explain, "I know this is all new and scary. I know that you barely know me, but I would happy to share my life, my home, and my name with you if you'll have it."

She waits patiently for a response. It is a bold and sudden move. She probably should have considered taking in an eleven-year-old girl at least a little longer before offering, but as she watches the child grieve for the loss of her whole life, there is no other option in her mind.

Hermione peers up, wide eyed and surprised that this woman would offer her so much without a second thought. While the loss of her family and everything she has even known is crushing, it is a relief to have the chance at a new one, just waiting for her to say yes.

"I would like that very much Professor McGonagall," Hermione answers, her voice small and still choked with tears.

"In private, it is Minerva, my dear," the older witch replies. "Now, let us get you down to the hospital wing. You are in no shapes to start classes just yet and any more questions can wait."

The last was directed at Professor Dumbledore, as Minerva stands, her arms still wrapped around the girl, and walks out of the Headmaster's office.

* * *

Snapping back to the present, tears on the brim of her eyes, Minerva watches as her girl enters the hall. Beside her is Harry Potter of all people, chatting and laughing with the young girl. It seemed that naturally, she is falling right into line with Albus' plans, but at least for now she seems happy. The old witch knows that it won't last for long though.

Leaning over to her dining companion, she asks Albus, "Let me tell her that her parents are gone. Even if she doesn't know me, I know her and I know what she needs."

"That is acceptable," the Headmaster responds, "But she will be staying with Molly Weasley. I will not change my mind on that."

There is a harshness to his tone that she had rarely heard, but Minerva just nods in response as they both watch the Gryffindor table, noticing that one Ronald Weasley has joined the other two first years. The three eat their breakfast while discussing their mutual excitement for the upcoming year. For now, all is well.

* * *

Hermione wasn't having any luck getting back to sleep after she had woken early. The entire previous day had been like a dream, arriving at Hogwarts, being sorted, eating all that glorious food, and getting to know some of the other students. She just can't contain her excitement, so she gets up and gets dressed for the day, in her new uniform. Stepping up to the mirror, she proudly admires the red and gold Gryffindor patch that had appeared on her vest during the night. Taking the stairs two at a time she descends from the girls dormitory.

The common room is still fairly quiet this early in the morning, even on a weekday, but there are a few people scattered around. Two older students sit at a table against the far wall, parchment in books spread out before them, obviously getting a jump of some of their classmates. On the couch by the fire, another first year she recognizes sits silently. Having read about him briefly in one of the texts her parents had purchased for her during their trip to Diagon Alley, she is hesitant to approach the Boy Who Lived, but then reasons that he is just around person.

"Can't sleep?" she asks, as she approaches the couch.

Startled out of his thoughts he looks at her briefly, taking in the halo of hair surrounding her, recognizing her after a moment from the sorting ceremony. Pushing his glasses up, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes before he finally responds.

"Yeah, tired, but also kind of wired. I just can't get back to sleep. It's all so new and interesting," he tells her. Pausing for a moment, muttering somewhat bitterly, the revelations of the last few days still a sore spot. "Though I guess I'm supposed to know everything as the Boy Who Lived."

"Not really," Hermione assures him. "I grew up with muggles too. You can't really know what you don't know until you know it."

Harry looks up at her quizzically, trying to puzzle out what she meant.

She takes mercy on him and tries again, "It just means you have more to learn. But that's the fun part isn't it? Magic is this new world we fit in to now, even if we didn't fit before. At least it is for me."

"No, I understand," Harry says, smiling widely at her. "I'm excited to get started. Flying, turning people into toads!"

Hermione makes a face at that last comment, but she supposes that they all have their bullies and ways to deal with them. Instead of saying anything against it, she offers, "would you like to head down to breakfast? I'm sure they're serving already."

The dark haired boy, who had never really had any friends, smiles and agrees, following Hermione's lead as they descend from Gryffindor Tower. The hallways are eerily empty, but bright as the morning sun shines in. They stop a few times as the stairs shift on them, making their way down. After a few dead ends and wrong turns, they find the great hall again. It's slightly more lively in the hall than anywhere else they'd been that morning, groups of older Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs devouring textbooks and food respectively. A few sleepy Slytherins doze at the far table and a shock of red hair belonging to one Percy Weasley adorns the Gryffindor table.

The duo take a seat on the bench next to the end, discussing the various subjects they are interested in. While Hermione has read each of her required texts, and some recreational reading, several times over, Harry has barely begun to skim the pages. The Dursleys had been diligent about keeping his new possessions locked away for most of the time that he has had them, but he managed to sneak a few peeks. He had been planning on looking at little closer once he was on the train, but getting to know Ron had been a lot more interesting. However, Hermione helpfully filled him in on the basics of several of the courses, sparking his enthusiasm for learning about defending dark magic and transfiguring things. He kept it to himself that potions and herbology sounded rather boring, so as not to affect her interest. Harry repeated what Ron had told him about flying with excitement, though she cringed at the thought.

It wasn't long before Ron had joined them at the table, piling his plate high with food and adding his own thoughts to the conversation. He told them what it was like to grow up in a wizarding household and all the things he'd seen or tried. The three conversed freely and easily as students filled the hall. The excitement sky rocketed for Hermione when their head of house, Professor McGonagall came by and dropped off their schedules. Ron moaned and groaned about having double potions first thing, especially since it was with Slytherin House. Harry, himself wasn't all that enthusiastic about another run in with Malfoy, which he explained to Hermione. She was about to respond when at the high table, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat loudly.

"Welcome students, to another year at Hogwarts. While we normally have start of term announcements at the opening feast, I did not want to sour the mood. I unfortunately do have some sad news to share. Our beloved Ancient Runes teacher, Professor Snape, is no longer with us. She passed away over the summer. The position is to be filled by Professor Babbling," Dumbledore announced, pausing to introduce the instructor.

The students applaud sporadically. The younger students are mostly unaffected, though any deaths were sad, but many of the older students are devastated to hear of the loss of a favorite professor. Still, many others whisper about Professor Snape, and wonder how he will react to the loss of his wife, wondering if he will be even worse than usual in the classroom. The dark Professor glares down at the student body, definitely looking worse than he usually does and quite angry.

"The loss of a great professor effects us all, so please, if you need to, speak to your head of house, or Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore offers. "Now, we also are welcoming a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Quirrell."

After pausing for more scattered applause, Dumbledore adds, "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."*

With that said, Dumbledore sat back down, digging into his scrambled eggs, and ignoring the incredulous stares of the student body. Around him, the staff groans and roll their eyes at his dramatic statement, even though they know the reasoning. Hermione, Ron, and Harry share quizzical looks for a moment before it passes and the dinning hall returns to normal. Students finish their breakfast and depart for their first class of the day. With additional groaning, Hermione drags Harry and Ron with her down to the dungeons for her first potions class.

* * *

 **Fairly short and mostly flash back, but we will have a lot of that. We will hang out a little longer in the first year than some of the other early years, but Hermione has a whole other life for us to explore.**

 *** for quotes from the book or movies - this one specifically from Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone. You can't have dire warnings without drama queen Dumbledore.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter Three - The Potion Master

 **September 2, 1991**

Severus Snape sat at his desk, hands clasped around his pounding head. He had several headache and sober-up potions on hand in the desk drawer, but even in his still slightly intoxicated state, he knew better than to take two in a row. He would have to wait a bit before taking another.

During the previous night, after he had passed out in his chair, he had woken up in the early morning, empty bottle of fire whiskey in his hands. Severus had angrily tossed it into the fireplace. He didn't even flinch as the small residual flames in the hearth flashed to life as the bottle broke and splashes of alcohol ignited.

With a groan, he had lifted himself from the chair and stumbled over to the small sidebar he kept in his rooms. It was mostly full since he and his wife hadn't indulged too often, mostly a bottle of wine with dinner from time to time. However, it had always been well stocked in case of visitors, which Severus had taken advantage of in his drunken haze.

Grabbing another bottle of whiskey off the shelf, he had turned, taking only a few steps before tumbling face down onto the couch. Rolling on to his back, he had decided that it was as good a place as any and worked on prying the lid off the bottle. After several minutes of failure to get his hands to cooperate with him, his temper flared and his magic sparked, causing not only the top to come off, but shattering the mouth of the bottle. Paying no mind, Severus had simply brushed off the shards of glass from his frock coat and lifted his head to the bottle. The ragged edge of the bottle sliced into his lips as the alcohol flowed into and onto him.

Swearing, he simply wiped his lips with the back of his hand, before pouring more of the liquid into his mouth, being slightly more careful to avoid the jagged edge of the bottle. It burned against the cuts on his lips. It burned against the back of his throat. It burned its way through his body. But it couldn't burn her image out of his mind. So, he had laid there, consuming more and more of the bottle to see if it helped.

That was were Minerva had found him two hours later when she had arrived through the floo.

"Ouch," she exclaimed as she brushed the soot off her robes, catching her hand on an unexpected shard of glass. "Seriously Severus, you wanted to avoid me so much that you booby trapped the floo with glass!"

The severity of the situation hit her when she noticed a bloody Severus, sprawled across the couch, clutching a broken and empty whiskey bottle. Open, bleary and blood-shot eyes show that he was awake, but far from aware. He was a mess, not to mention the widespread destruction of the room. Minerva had known that he would be hurting. They both were. She hadn't expected this. The normally completely in control Professor Snape losing all control.

McGonagall grimaced and set to work. Figuring he was fairly stable, she went to work on the room first, so to avoid any additional injuries once he was up and about. She vanished the shards of glass from both the fire place, then from on and around Severus, then the rest of the chambers, since he's broken everything even remotely breakable in the place. A flick of her wand repaired the bookshelves and the books flew back into place, some a little worse for wear. Chairs and tables few back together and the grandfather clock mended. Once the room was in order, she turned to Severus.

Kneeling down by the couch, Minerva had gently taken his hand in her own, whispering spells. She wasn't a healer, but she knew the basics. Small shards of glass rose out of the cuts on his hand and vanished. She summoned a bottle of dittany, knowing he'd have some on hand. Snatching the bottle out of the air, she carefully uncorked it and allowed the liquid to drip slightly over each cut. The sting of the dittany cleaning and closing his wounds seemed to snap Snape back to reality.

"Ahhhh," he groaned, trying to snatch his hand out of Minerva's grasp.

"Easy my boy," she cooed, "I'm just getting you patched up. Hang in there."

Another flick of her wand and a sober-up potion flew into her hand. The stern witch set it down and moved to his other hand, repeating the process. A quick spell cleaned the blood off him. It was then that she noticed the cuts on his lips, as blood continued to ooze out of them.

"Oh, you silly boy," she growled, snatching the empty bottle from him and vanishing it.

The wizard protested slightly, but didn't have much fight left in him. Minerva moved on to the cuts on his lips, a drop or two of dittany on each. She grimaced as it sizzled and popped. The pain was enough that Severus shot up from his prone position with a roar, but it soon faded. Minerva had pressed an open potion vial in his hands, which he had downed with no argument.

The sober-up potion coursed through his body, working, but not very effectively. He knew that it wasn't a problem with the brew. His wife had made it, so it was nothing less than perfection. He dimply was a light weight when it came to alcohol and he had consumed enough that it was a surprise he hadn't poisoned himself. The potion worked partially based on alcohol tolerance versus consumption. However, it was effective enough that he could focus and converse, but he had to admit to himself he was still fairly tipsy.

"What do you think you were doing?" Minerva had yelled at him. "I know it hurts, trust me my son, but she wouldn't want this."

"It doesn't matter what she would want any more Minerva!" He yelled back, all of his anger rushing back. "She left us! She's gone. What's the point?"

"She's not gone for good," Minerva responded, her tone softening. "We'll get her back. We just need to wait it out."

Severus Snape just shrugged, rising from the couch somewhat unsteadily, before regaining his balance and striding to the door. He hastily threw his teaching robes on over the same clothes he had worn the day before, and left his quarters, slamming the door behind him.

After a quick walk by the lake, to get some fresh air and clear his head, he reluctantly had gone to the great hall for breakfast. It had been pure torture, listening to Albus pronounce his wife dead, though in truth, it felt like she was. The problem was that even though she wasn't with him, he had to see her younger self still.

Having fled breakfast as soon as possible, was how he had found himself in his classroom, awaiting his first class. Glancing up slightly, he peers at the schedule of classes in front of him.

 _Of course,_ he thinks _, I'm sure Albus thinks this is some great joke, putting her right in front of me first thing._

It wasn't long before the first year Slytherin and Gryffindor class lumbered in. He tries his hardest not to look for her in the group, but he can't help it. Dark eyes find her instantly as she enters, picking a table up front and settling down at one of the three-person tables, in the middle of her two friends. Severus can't help, but remember a much different potions class.

* * *

 **October 1971**

Severus walks beside Lily, ignoring the pointing and whispering of the other students, surprised to see a snake and a lion together. It is difficult to just let it go, but nothing could upset him today. It was their first real, solo brewing day in Potions and that is where they are heading.

Professor Slughorn had been occupying them with the basics for the first few weeks. Learning general potions safety, the various ways to prepare ingredients, and knife skills. While it was all very fascinating, Severus was eager to brew.

They arrive at their destination before any of the other students, and Lily settles down in an end seat at one of the typical three-person potions tables. Severus groans internally since he always takes the end seat, not wanting to have to sit near someone else. However, he reluctantly settles down in the middle seat, wanting to be close to Lily.

As the classroom starts to fill, he notices a head of bushy brown hair in his peripheral vision. Turning, he sees that Gryffindor, Hermione McGonagall has taken up the seat next to him. She is digging through her bookbag, pulling out a notebook, quill, ink, and the potion text, flipping to the page for today's brew.

"Gryffindors don't really hang out with Slytherins, you know?" He sneers, not wanting to share the space, especially with a lion that will cause him more trouble than he's already got.

Hermione ignores the sneer and responds easily, "You sit with Lily, and she is my friend, so, you shouldn't have a problem with another lion friend."

"How do you know I want to be your friend anyway," he growls petulantly.

Hermione just shrugs, adjusting and readjusting her supplies to make sure she has enough room.

"I want to be your friend, so why wouldn't you want the same," she announces.

Snape is stunned into silence, unsure how to handle this very bold and pushy Gryffindor. _No one wanted to be friends with him. He is poor, wears shabby clothes, and looks funny. Lily and him were only friends because they initially bonded over magic as children, surrounded by muggles. So, what is this pushy Gryffindor's game?_

Before Severus can formulate a suitable reply, Slughorn sweeps into the room, clapping his hands together to get the attention of the class.

"Now everyone, today is a special day! We are going to be brewing for the first time, so I want everyone on their best behavior!" Professor Slughorn announces. "Now, we will be brewing the Wiggenweld potion! The recipe is in your books in page 57 and ingredients are in the supply closet."

He stops speaking, but no one moves, waiting hopefully for more assistance than 'follow the text' on their very first brew.

"Well, get to it," Slughorn exclaims, clapping his hands again.

Students rush into the supply closet, fighting for ingredients before settling back at their respective tables to start brewing. The class in uneventful for the most part as students work to complete their assignment. One girl manages to cut her finger, and a couple Slytherin boys had stabbed each other with lionfish quills, but nothing catastrophic.

Severus has just finished adding the salamander blood, and leans over his book to read the next step, while waiting for the potion to turn red. While he is distracted, Gryffindor first year's James Potter and Sirius Black, at the table in front of him, take turns tossing chizpurfle fangs into Snape's cauldron.

The Slytherin misses the distinct kerplunk of the fangs sinking into the cauldron, but grows concerned when his pink solution starts to turn green. Flipping rapidly through the reference text in an almost panic, he missed the snickering from the other table.

"Add another three drops of moondew," Hermione advises, touching him gently on the shoulder to gain his attention.

Slightly suspicious of the Gryffindor, but desperate to avoid disaster, Severus listens and adds the additional moondew to his cauldron. The potion immediately starts to shift back to the pink it was, before rapidly continuing to change to the red it is supposed to be. He breathes a sigh of relief and leans slightly over to his classmate.

"Thank you. How did you know how to fix it?" he whispers.

She doesn't get a chance to answer him then, because at that moment, a flobberworm comes flying from up front, landing directly atop Hermione's mess of hair. Laughter erupts from the Gryffindor boys. Snape glares at them, reaching into his robes for his wand, when he feels a hand on his arm pulling him back.

"Don't worry about it, Severus. You'll just get in trouble, and it's only a flubberworm," Hermione explains, her hands in her hair, trying to dislodge the writhing creature.

Severus stares at her in shock. _Helping him. Protecting him. Maybe she really did want to be his friend._

"Would you mind?" She asks him, pulling him from his thoughts. "I can't seem to get it."

He nods and lifts his hand, already long fingers tangle in her hair as he snatches the flubberworm, working delicately to dislodge it without pulling her hair too much. When he is done, she smiles up at him.

"Thank you."

* * *

Severus returns to his classroom, all of his students sitting at their desks, staring at him, while he stares off into space, somewhere vaguely above Granger's head.

Clearing his throat, he flicks his wand, the classroom door slamming shut. His Occlumency walls do the same, as he begins his start of term speech for the first years. Like she had always been able to do, his wife cracked through his shields, an image of her, stalking around their living room in nothing but his way too large teaching robes, imitating his speech, making him laugh.

Growling, he locks his walls down even more, turning on the class and finding a source for his anger. While Severus had made peace with the Marauders before the death of James and Lily Potter, he still remembered the torment inflicted on him in school. Summoning those feelings and his rage, he turned his attention to Harry Potter.

" **Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"**

" **I don't know sir," said Harry**

" **Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"**

" **I don't know sir."**

" **Thought you wouldn't open. A book before coming, eh, Potter? What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"**

" **I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"***

That stalls Snape, as he has been pointedly ignoring Hermione Granger and her hand raised so high in the air her arm has to be aching. He is angry and wants to humiliate the son as the father had done to him. Feeling as if he has succeeded, since his Slytherins as all snickering at the Boy Who Knows Nothing, he turns away. He waves his hand at the blackboard and the questions he has just put to Potter appear on the board.

"Each of you will answer these questions and thoroughly research the properties of the various ingredients. I expect two feet of parchment on it by next class. Start now!" He growls before returning to his desk.

The students opened their books and started thumbing through them, the furious scratching of quill tip on parchment the only sound in the classroom. Severus sits at his desk, clutching his head in one hand and playing with the handle of the top drawer with the other. He knows that he cannot take potions in front of the students, but the pounding headache has him tempted to do it anyway.

Thankfully, before he knows it, class has ended. He dismisses the students with a wave and they hurry to pack up their things and get out. Severus is too busy focusing on his headache to notice that Hermione has waved off the boys, letting them know that she'll catch up. She approaches his desk quietly.

"Sorry to disturb you Professor," she says.

He looks up at her then. Glaring into the face he knows so well. When she spoke, he realizes that her teeth had stayed straight and normal size. He's glad for that, as in his time, she had researched long and hard in their third year to find the spell to reduce her buck teeth due to the Marauders continued harassment. She'd also managed to straighten out his teeth for him then, fixing the damage done by his abusive and neglectful father.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he manages, forcing himself to stay in the present.

"I just wanted to offer my condolences for the loss of you wife. I'm sorry that you're going through this," she offers quietly before turning and leaving.

He spells the door closed shut behind her and groans. Ripping open the drawer, he pulled out a headache potion and downs it, feeling the pounding recede a bit only after moments. With that, he pushes himself up from the desk, glad the room doesn't spin, and turns toward the door at the back of the classroom. Passing through his office without stopping, he enters his chambers, maneuvering around the newly fixed furniture to the bar.

Unfortunately, he has consumed all of the fire whiskey already. He makes a mental note to restock, as he grabs a bottle of rum from a little-known wizarding distillery. Severus glances down at the label wistfully, shaking his head at his wife's extensive interests. As she had gotten older, the muggle ways of her childhood had completely faded in her mind, and she knew that he was not fond of his muggle upbringing. So, they had taken trips to little wizarding villages all over, sampling food and drink, often bring back trophies. The tall wizard currently held one of those trophies in his hands.

Part of him wanted to throw it into the fireplace, smash the bottle and ruin the contents. He wanted to scorch every piece and part of her from his life and his mind. In the end, he twisted the top off the bottle and took several long gulps. He hesitated slightly as his hands went to return the bottle to its home, before tucking it under his robes and turning back towards the door. Returning to his classroom, he tucked the bottle into the bottom drawer, and waited for his next group of students.

* * *

 **Alright, the large bold chunk is obviously text from the book. So credits to Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone.**

 **Hope yall enjoyed! Leave me a review and let me know what you think! Hopefully I'll keep up the pace, but sooner or later it will soon. Hang in there with me though! Thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter 4 – Tackling the Troll

 **October 31, 1991**

Minerva sat at the desk in her office, marking papers furiously. So much red ink was being allotted to each paper lately, the students probably thought that Snape has taken over their grading. However, the furious scribbling and harsh criticism of her students did nothing to help her frustration.

Some of the Gryffindor first years had come to her, yet again, in concern over Hermione Granger crying herself to sleep nightly. It had been six weeks, since Minerva broke the news to the young girl. She had informed Miss Granger that there had been a fire at her family home and her parents had not made it. Hermione had broken down in tears in Minerva's office, and the older witch had done her best to console her, not unlike the first time she had found out she'd lost her family, all those years ago.

Dumbledore had secured a vault in Miss Granger's name, supplying her with some funds, for her to be able to buy some things for herself. Severus had also insisted on contributing to the vault, adding enough galleons that she wouldn't want for anything during her time at Hogwarts. For the sake of maintaining the secret, McGonagall explained it away as Dumbledore settling Hermione's family estate for her.

Now though, Minerva wasn't sure what she could do to help her girl. Back in 1971, Minerva had invited her new 'daughter' to tea several times a week, giving them time to get to know each other. It had helped the transition, easing the girl's grief. Even over the years the two had maintained a weekly tea time during the school terms to keep in touch. However, this time around, she wasn't going to be the girl's adoptive mother.

It was still a point of contention between her and Dumbledore, so much so, that she had stopped talking to him except for school business. The friendship that had spanned decades had been shattered, and Minerva had no interest in fixing it. Who was he to take away her girl for the sake of moving his pawns on the chessboard?

* * *

 **December 1973**

"Mom!" came the call from down the hall.

Minerva smiled, still amazed at the young woman that had entered her life just a few short years prior. Hermione had just the last summer taken to calling her mom. It had been rather suddenly, and the poor girl had looked mortified the first time she had done it, but Minerva had simply treated it like normal and continued the conversation, even though she was ecstatic. Within the week, it was always mom and no longer Minerva.

"Yes dear?" Minerva called out to her, far more tamely. "You don't need to shout you know. I can hear you just fine."

The brown-haired young witch slid around the corner and to a sudden stop in front of Minerva's chair. Hermione had grown a lot in just over two years. Not just physically, though she was taller. She had grown more into her magic, impressive as it had been when she had first started at Hogwarts, it was a force to be reckoned with.

Anything she put her mind too, she accomplished, no matter the subject matter. At the end of her second year due to the constant teasing, she had learned a spell, that was designed to tame her bushy brown hair in a matter of moments, not bothered by the fact that it was a spell fifth years struggled with. Sure, she had struggled to learn the spell and she had come to Minerva for help more than once with tragic hair mishaps, but she had kept at it, mastering the spell in just a few short months. Now, without much work or magical energy at all, her hair fell in neat waves around her face.

That powerful, confident young witch stood in front of her now, excited grin on her face, just bursting at the seems to share whatever it was that she had found or done now. Minerva couldn't help, but smile and be proud of her daughter.

"Mom," Hermione blurted, "You'll never believe what I did? It was awesome! I've been working so hard for a while now … but then you know that … but I was starting to think it would never happen and it did!"

"What happened dear?" Minerva asked, trying to keep up with the energy and enthusiasm of her 14-year-old adoptive daughter.

"I transformed into my animagus form finally! I have to show you," Hermione exclaimed, tugging at her mother's arms to pull her from her chair.

"Well, hang on a minute. I will not be going anywhere in my dressing gown," Minerva informed her sternly before turning and heading toward her bedroom.

Even though it was Christmas holidays and the school was almost empty, Minerva wouldn't break decorum, not even for the pleading, almost exploding with excitement, girl on the other side of her bedroom door. Dressing quickly, since the old witch was almost as excited as the girl, she emerged again, promptly being dragged by the hand through the castle.

They had started working on animagus training during the summer holidays, after much persistence and pestering from the younger witch. Minerva had argued many times over meals, that Hermione was much too young, but eventually, she had been worn down and training had started. The young witch, that excelled at everything, often teaching herself things, struggled with the exercises and tasks required of animagus training. Sessions were ended with heaps of frustration on both sides. Hermione had become desperate enough to try her training without Minerva's assistance and had ended up in St. Mungo's for three days. After that, McGonagall had insisted on a wand oath, that Hermione wouldn't train alone without her express permission.

By the end of summer, Hermione had progressed enough that she was given permission to train on her own, as Minerva was at the point where she couldn't teach her anymore. It was simply time for her to practice the exercises, try the techniques, and learn more about herself in the process. Though Hermione was frustrated with the lack of immediate results, Minerva was impressed.

Now, months later, it was obviously worth all the time, effort, and frustration as the girl dragged the older witch through the entry hall and out until the snowy December night. Having never observed or see any indication of what the girl's animagus form might be, Minerva assume it was quite large, since changing in the warmth of their quarters hadn't been an option.

Leaving her mother on the steps to the castle, Hermione leapt out into the snow, enjoying the fluffy white flakes and the brisk cold. For a moment, she just enjoyed the weather, before suddenly changing form, her black shape taking off into the night sky. On the ground, Minerva stood, staring in awe and wonder as her child changed shape before her eyes, preforming magic well beyond her age.

* * *

The trail of thought sparked an idea and Minerva pushed away from her desk, rushing over to the fireplace. Kneeling slowly in front of the fire, she tossed a handful of powder into the flames, calling out "The Burrow". The floo call connected instantly.

"Molly, are you there?" Minerva asked, peering through the floo into an empty Weasley kitchen.

The Weasley matriarch bustled into the room, having heard her name being called.

"Oh, Minerva, sorry, I was just in the living room working on some knitting," Molly explained. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you might be willing to come through later today for tea? Hermione is having a terrible time managing the news. I was thinking that it might be helpful for her too meet you and get to know you a bit," Minerva tells her.

"That is a great idea! I can come through after lunch."

"Splendid," Minerva agreed. "I'll let her know and we will see you then. Thank you very much Molly!"

The floo call ends and McGonagall sits back on her heels with a sigh. She is jealous of the time Molly will get to spend with her daughter. Time she should have with Hermione. Well, with the older version of Hermione, but either way it should be her time. The old witch acknowledges that she isn't getting any younger, and even with the circumstances, she is still losing time with the girl that changed her life.

Sure, as her head of house and professor, McGonagall gets to see her, but it is far from the same relationship. The very best she can do now, is make sure that Hermione is taken care of, even if that means she needs Molly instead.

Casting a quick spell to check the time, McGonagall groans as she rises to her feet. Classes were about to let out and if she is quick, she can check on Severus before class with her fourth years.

* * *

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, noticing her absence, as they sit down in the great hall for the Halloween feast.

"Dunno," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of chicken, his plate already piled high with food.

"She's been in the bathroom crying since her meeting with McGonagall. No one has been able to convince her to come out," Lavender Brown said, sitting across the table from the boys.

"That meeting was with my mum though," Ron says. "Shouldn't she be happy she has a home again?"

Everyone in the area grimaces at the tasteless comment, while Ron remains as clueless as ever. Fred and George are sitting close enough to the first years to supply their input.

"Unlike you, little brother, out Hermione is human," Fred says.

"Yeah, with normal human emotions," George added.

Both Ron and Harry look a little clueless, trying to understand what they are saying.

"Just because she's bonding with mum doesn't mean the loss of her family doesn't hurt," George explained, rolling his eyes at their cluelessness.

"If anything, it'll just make it hurt more for a while," Fred finishes.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because it is a huge reminder that her parents are gone," Lavender announced.

"How do you two know this?" Ron asked the twins suspiciously.

"Rule seven of dating: learn how to manage sad and upset women," Fred started.

"And life will be infinitely easier," George ends.

The boys shrug and dig into their meals again. One of the twins throws a roll, that bounces off of Ron's head, earning him a rude gesture in response.

"Not going to go help you friend?" George asks.

"What can we do?" Harry asked, seriously at a loss for how to help.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "It's not like we're going to go in the girl's bathroom! And Lavender already said she wouldn't come out."

The conversation was interrupted by Professor Quirrell came bursting through the great hall doors. He stumbled down the main aisle shouting at the top of his lungs.

" **Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know."**

" **Prefects," Dumbledore rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately."**

All of the students seem to rise from their tables as one. The Prefects of each house tried their best to maintain a semblance or order, but the best they managed was a mildly contained rabble. Students exploded from the great hall, darting in all directions.

"What about Hermione?" Harry asks as they step into the entry hall.

" **What about her?"**

" **She doesn't know about the troll,"** Harry answered. "We need to go get her."

Together, the two boys break away from the Gryffindor mob and rush off to the girl's bathroom.

* * *

Tea with Molly Weasley had been nice. The older witch obviously had tons of experience mothering, with seven kids. She had told Hermione a little bit about the what the Burrow was like, talked about all of her children, and her husband. Truly, Molly had painted a spectacular picture, but it wasn't Hermione's home.

It wasn't the two-story brick home in a small London suburb. The mantel lined with pictures of their various vacations. It wasn't discussions of upcoming dental procedures over dinner. It wasn't reading with her father in the study or baking with her mother in the kitchen.

Hermione had maintained her composure and polite demeanor until the meeting was done. She waited until she was definitely out of sight before sprinting through the halls, making her way to one of the least used girl's bathrooms in Hogwarts, aside from the second floor at least.

The first-floor bathroom near the dungeon was rarely used, as more often than not, students avoided the dungeon area like the plague, and there were bathrooms closer to the great hall anyways. Still, some of the other Gryffindor first years had tracked her down, standing outside of the stall and trying to coerce her into coming out. Despite several attempts, Hermione refused to even respond to them. They finally had to give up and return to classes, leaving Hermione to grieve in peace.

Finally, Hermione emerged from the bathroom stall, approaching the sinks. She sighed as she looks in the mirror, her eyes puffy and red, moisture still lining her lower lids, her nose red and irritated. Turning on the tap, she leaned forward and splashed some water on her face. Just as she turns off the water, she hears a shuffling near the entrance to the bathroom and she prepares for what she expects to be a group of well-meaning Gryffindor's to drag her to the tail end of the Halloween feast.

As she turns toward the entrance of the bathroom, Hermione's eyes widen, as a huge, grey skinned creature stepped into view. The massive troll drags a huge club, which makes the shuffling sound she had originally heard. In shock, she stands completely still, staring at the monster.

It isn't until he takes in her presence, growling in response, that she moves, dashing back into the toilet stall, throwing the lock, and wrapping herself around the base of the toilet. Mentally, her brain is running in overdrive, freaking out over the situation and her choice, but knowing she didn't have any better options with the troll blocking the doorway. In response to her stress, magic and memories leak slowly from the crack in the magical door in her mind, locking them away. Her bushy hair starts to crackle with sparks, her magic building around her.

The magic builds, creating a soothing presence, slowing her thoughts and clearing her mind. From somewhere deep in her mind, a strong feeling emerges: push. Her entire being entreats her to push the troll away, to push the danger away. Push, her mind and her magic shouts at her. In her head, embossed in fiery red letters, the word flipendo appears. Her mind latches onto the word, targeting the building magic and shouting the word. Suddenly, she feels a great loss, the power draining from her, leaving her feeling empty and weak as it recedes behind the door once more.

However, the troll, had already reared back its club, preparing wipe out the entire row of stalls, sweeping the floor. Before it completes the swing, a magical force pushes the troll to make it stumble backwards, causing the club to just crush the top of the stalls, raining shards of wood down upon the witch.

Hermione screamed in fear, crawling along the floor, trying to find more shelter. She knows that with the sudden fatigue, she wouldn't be able to outrun the troll. Thankfully, Harry and Ron appear in the doorway suddenly, though, she notes, without any additional help.

"Hermione!" they shout together.

The troll is briefly distracted, missing its swing once again, crushing the sinks, dangerously close to the cowering Hermione.

Turning back to its initial target, the troll raises its club again. Recklessly, Harry runs forward, grabbing the head of the club. The momentum of the club lifts the boy into the air. Finding himself on the troll's shoulders, Harry simply does his best to hang on as it tries to shake him loose.

"Do something!" Harry screams, ducking as the troll reaches for him.

Hermione uses the distraction to flee, hugging the wall as she crawls over to the entryway, joining Ron. Ron raises his wand, casting the first spell that comes to mind.

Magic directed at the troll, hits its target. The effect isn't immediate, but within moments massive wings start to appear from the troll's nose. Soon, the monster is surrounded by many large, winged boogies, attacking its head.

Swearing rather colorfully, Harry fights to hang on while also defending himself from the vicious boogies. The troll throws its head, catching Harry by surprise and knocking him loose. The boy starts to tumble the twelve feet towards the hard-stone floor. Hermione flicks her wand, after having fought to extract it from her torn and tangled robes, at her friend.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Hermione shouts.

At the same time, a silky-smooth voice booms through the bathroom, "Stupify!"

Harry is caught within Hermione's magic, lifting back up onto the air slightly before she gently lowers him to the floor. Behind him, the troll is thrown into the back wall of the bathrooms with the force of the stunner.

Once all feet at back on the floor, the three students whipped around and found themselves face to face with their teachers. Hermione sways on her feet, exhaustion dragging her closer and closer to the darkness. She struggles against the dizziness and her bodies attempts to pass out on the spot.

"What do you three think you are doing?" Professor McGonagall screeched.

Harry and Ron just look at each other helplessly, trying to come up with a good enough excuse. They turn wordlessly, surveying their teachers. McGonagall is staring them down, fire and promises of grueling punishment in her eyes. Severus Snape, who had knocked the troll out, glared down his nose at the trio, watching them closely. Quirrell rounds out the group, looking oddly annoyed.

"It looks like they were holding their own," Quirrell offers timidly, as jumpy and edgy as always.

"Holding their own! Really," Minerva rounds on Quirrell, anger raging unchecked.

"Oh yes, that bat-bogie hex was really effective," Snape sneers, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Before Minerva can turn on him, Hermione succumbs to the darkness. Severus sweeps in and scoops her up in his arms. As he does so, Harry notices Severus limping heavily, his robes parting enough to reveal a large, bloody gash on his leg. The boy's suspicion of his professor is pushed aside by worry for his friend.

"Let's get these three to the hospital wing Severus," McGonagall announces. "Do you think you can manage watching the stunned troll until the Ministry employees arrive, Professor Quirrell?"

The professor jumps and adjusts his turban slightly, willfully ignoring the scorn dripping from her words.

"Of course," Professor Quirrell says. "I'd be a rather poor defense teacher if I couldn't."

The end of his statement is punctuated by a yelp, as he jumps nearly three feet in the air, as the knocked-out troll snorts.

Rolling her eyes, McGonagall turns, ushering the boys ahead of her, while Severus follows, a passed-out Hermione Granger draped across his arms.

Passing quickly through the empty halls, the reach the hospital wing in no time. Severus reluctantly releases the unconscious Miss Granger, lowering her down on one of the beds in the wing. Snape resists the urge to start his own healing spells, hands fisted by his side, letting Poppy do her job.

The mediwitch runs a quick diagnosis on the girl. Poppy frowns at the reading, but acknowledges that Hermione isn't in any danger, the girl simply exhausted. The healer turns towards Harry, quickly mends the few scratches he has, before sending the boys off to their dormitories.

"What is wrong with her?" Minerva asks, now that she is alone with her colleagues.

"It seems to be magical exhaustion," Poppy responds, waving her wand over the girl, "but I've never seen this level of exertion on a student of Hermione's current age."

"Obviously," Severus snaps, "this isn't a typical case. She's a time-traveling 31-year-old witch, in the body and mind of an 11-year-old."

"Easy son," Minerva says, walking up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

This close, she can smell the alcohol on him, and she furrows her brow. It is painful to watch his downward spiral, but she isn't sure how to help the wizard. His situation is cruel, so the anger and drinking are not unexpected, but it was still worrying.

"It looks like she only used two spells," Poppy frowns, until the next scan reveals the answers she is looking for. "But one of those was a flipendo with quiet a lot of force."

"But that is a third-year spell," Minerva scowls.

"It would have taken a lot of magic at her current age to even budge a twelve-foot troll," Snape mutters.

"That spell makes up the majority of the cause behind her magical exhaustion. The levitation was just the icing on the cake," Madam Pomfrey says. "Not that she should be able to access that much magic at this age."

"Did something go wrong with her de-aging Severus?" Minerva asks, knowing he had been there.

"No," he answers firmly. "I locked them away myself. The door restricts her magic as well, limited to the amount her physical age and body can withstand."

"Then what happened?" the transfiguration professor asks.

Severus stayed quiet, letting his hand drift to cover the still hand of the young witch. Thought her memories are locked away, her mind is still known to him and he follows the familiar pathways in. Gently, he brushes against her memories of the battle with the troll, only seeing the building and expression of power. Concerned, he looks over the door he built, checking it over, making sure there are no cracks or breeches. Satisfied with his work, he emerges to both witches watching him carefully.

"Still securely locked away," he answers, before sweeping out of the room, no longer able to tolerate the situation.

Minerva sighs.

"She'll be fine Minerva," Poppy assures her, "she just needs some rest. A few days and she will wake and her magical core will be refreshed."

"Yes, she'll will heal and be alright," McGonagall responded, staring, not at Hermione, but at the empty doorway to the hospital wing, "but will he?"

* * *

The hospital wing is silent, the mediwitch even in bed at this hour. The young witch was the only student in the wing this night. The subtle shifting of magic slowly builds around the girl, drawing into her and seeping from her, causing a very faint, ghastly light to surround her. The minute crack in Severus' barrier door, so small he had missed it, grows slightly as magic seeps through.

After a short time, the magic dissipates. Hermione Granger stirs slightly, looking groggily around at her surroundings. The pull of sleep is too much and she falls back asleep before questioning where she is. Though incredibly tired still, her magical core is returned to normal.

The next day, much to Poppy Pomfrey's concern, Hermione is feeling well enough to leave the hospital wing. Watching the young witch walk out the door, the mediwitch wonders to herself, what exactly is happening to her young friend.

* * *

 **Thanks for tagging along. Much of what happens in the books will continue to happen, though I won't touch on it all. The most major difference in year one, are the scornful interactions between Ron/Harry and Hermione. Additionally, my Ron is just as clueless (it's what makes him a kinda lovable oaf, though still an oaf), and Harry is a little more studious (come on kid! magical world after 11 years of feeling like a complete freak. Get excited!). Anyways, let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Just a heads up that things with Severus are rather dark right now.**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Fighting Addiction

 **June 1992**

"Severus?" Minerva called from the floo. "Boy, where are you?"

When he didn't respond, she stepped through the floo and into his chambers. All around her, empty bottles littered the floor, sat upon tables, and filled the small waste bin. Dirty clothes hung over every chair in the room, except his large winged back chair by the fire and in piles on the floor.

The chair that had been Hermione's in the years she had shared the quarters with her husband was destroyed again. Minerva had repaired that chair more than dozen times since the girl had de-aged, but it seemed that finally Severus had decided to get rid of it for good, as half a charred chair leg was hanging out of the fire and all that remained where the chair once sat was a small pile of fluff. The space now filled with more empty bottles.

It had been three days since the students had left, longer since she had last seen Severus, and even longer still since she had visited his chambers. A quick spell vanished the empty bottles. With her son-in-law nowhere in sight, Minerva turned with determination towards the bedroom.

Kicking aside a clump of black robes, she entered the bedroom. The first thing that she noticed was the smell and she recoiled, holding her hand under her nose, hoping the scent of her lavender lotion would help. Stale alcohol, unwashed human flesh, urine, and the sour stench of vomit filled the room, stubborn enough to not be phased by Minerva's lavender lotion. Inside the darkened room, all she could see was a large black lump upon the bed.

Flicking her wand, the scones in the room flared to life, revealing a disaster zone. A disgruntled groan emerged from under a pile of blankets, but no person in sight. Empty bottles littered the floor and all surfaces in this room as well, ranging from butterbeer to muggle liquor. The dark bedding showed well-developed sweat stains and many discolored areas, where Severus must have thrown up in his drunken stupor. She couldn't help but notice, that the spots that could only be best described as, chunky, were the oldest. Since he hadn't seemed to have slowed down on the alcohol, the old witch assume he hadn't been eating.

Growling in irritation, she marched into the bathroom, the surfaces coated in dust, clearly unused. The toilet at least looked semi-recently used, but the smells in the other room had indicated that it hadn't been as frequently as necessary. Pointing her wands at the tap, the large tub, though it was more of a small pool, had started to fill. Marching back into the bedroom, she cast an evenesco on the linens covering, what she hoped and assumed was the form of Severus Snape.

The naked, urine and vomit covered wizard yelped in surprise, swearing up a storm at the old witch. Without hesitation, McGonagall levitated the man she's known since he was a boy, naked as the day he was born, and currently at his lowest.

"Minerva, you pesky, meddling cat! You put me down this instance," Severus yelled, his voice slightly slurred.

Much to her amusement, it was over the mostly full tub that he finished his statement, so she dropped the spell, and the man.

He sank like a stone, then struggled to the surface, sputtering, swearing, and threatening all sorts of cruel punishments for the witch. Soon, all words ceased as magical brushes scrubbed Severus from head to toe, including his mouth every time he tried to open it.

Sullenly, he suffered through his cleansing, dressed himself in the clothes she provided, the only robes she could scourgify clean without them falling apart, and sat himself in his chair, facing the annoyed witch.

Without consulting him, she had set a horde of house elves loose in his chambers, insisting the burn all his clothes and linens, before ordering more, assuring the little creatures that Madam Malkin would have his measurements on file. The little creatures scurried about the room, vanishing piles of dirty robes, dirty dishes, and the handful of bottles hiding under furniture that Minerva had missed. They siphoned dust off of almost every surface, oblivious to the glaring potion master.

"I haven't seen you since the incident with the stone," Minerva stated plainly, waiting for an explanation.

"I've been busy," he muttered sullenly.

"I can see that," she said, looking pointedly at a pile of empty liquor bottles being swept out from under the couch she sat on.

"Poppy says she hasn't been getting the usual batches of potions to resupply the infirmary. She even had to brew pepper-up herself. You should have heard that woman swear, muttering about how long it had been since she had been forced to brew," Minerva chucked, trying to lighten the mood.

"What do you want, Minerva?" Snape snapped.

"I'm worried about you, son," the old witch stated.

"Well, I'm not your son, so you don't have to worry," Severus replied sullenly. "Didn't you hear Dumbledore? My wife is dead. I'm no longer your problem."

"You are still my son-in-law," Minerva declared. "Dead or alive. Normal or de-aged. That wonderful girl is still my daughter. And she chose you to share her life with, so you will always be my son."

"Bossy witch," he muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

Despite his words, he didn't have the energy to fight her on the matter. His head was pounding worse than ever, since he hadn't even bothered to brew headache potions for himself recently. What he really needed was another drink. The perpetual state of drunkenness he had enjoyed for most of the year was starting to fade. Severus Snape for the first time in his life considered himself a coward, because he didn't dare face a world without his wife while sober.

"What would our Hermione think of you acting like this?" Minerva asked gently.

Without pausing to think, Severus responded, "My little witch would kick my arse, then hex me for good measure."

Minerva chuckled sadly, "And she'd do the same to me for letting you get into this state in the first place."

"I don't know how to do this Minerva," he admitted quietly. "I don't know how to live without her. How do I come home to these quarters we shared every day? How do I fall asleep without my arms around her or wake up and not be crushes that she isn't there? She was my whole life, Minerva."

"I know, son. She changed the lives of everyone she interacted with, but this hurts you and me the most. But she would want us to keep going. She isn't gone for good, Severus. We are going to get our girl back. Come hell or high water," Minerva assured him.

The wizard chuckled lightly at the older witches' determination. With a sigh, he pulled back the sleeve of his robe on his left arm.

"And to top it all off, there is this," he muttered darkly, all humor gone.

On his left arm, the dark mark appeared, outlined in a light grey against his skin. The image seemed to faintly pulse with life.

McGonagall gasped, "But wasn't that completely faded? Just a faint scar after the Potter's were killed?"

"Yes, but his soul survived somehow. The mark went dormant while he was away it seems," Severus explained.

"You mean to say that he is back?" She asked.

"Not really back. Not yet at least. But his spirit is stronger. And he is back in Britain. He was essentially hitchhiking on Quirrell this last year before the Boy Wonder thwarted him," Severus explained with disgust.

"Don't be so hard on the boy, Severus," Minerva pleaded. "He is not his father."

"His father or not, he has placed Hermione in danger," Severus growled, "And will continue to do so if Albus has his way. Danger follows that boy and she follows him. I will never forgive that."

Severus sighed and rose from the chair, opening a cabinet in the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of muggle rum. The pounding in his head was out of control, and he was way too close to sober for him liking. If the meddlesome old witch wasn't going to leave, then he was going to go ahead and drink with her here.

He didn't even bother with a glass or offering her one, as he sat, starting to work the lid off the bottle. Before he could get it open though, Minerva had vanished the whole bottle. Severus snarled in irritation, ready to lay into the witch.

"No," Minerva insisted firmly. "I will not allow this to continue! I will not fail Hermione and let you drink yourself into an early grave. We are going to survive this and it will all just be a bad memory when we have our girl back."

Embarrassment quenched the rage inside him. He knew that Hermione, his witch, the woman he had married, would be ashamed and furious with him.

"Besides, if we are going to protect her from the trouble headed her way, you are going to need to be at your best," the witch announced.

"How?" Severus asked quietly, "I don't know how to stop myself. I don't know how to quit."

"Then we get you help my boy. Though, I warn you, I won't be easy. You remember how hard it was to break your dreamless sleep addiction during the war. However, I'm here to help."

Severus nodded and let her drag him from his chambers. They wove through the castle, ending up at the hospital wing. Poppy had her head in a cabinet, reorganizing when they arrived, but emerged when Minerva gently cleared her throat.

They had a quick conversation with the mediwitch, exposing his weakness, much to Severus' annoyance. The final decision was that he would go to St. Mungo's Addiction Ward for treatment over the summer.

While not thrilled, the young wizard submitted, willing to do anything to get better. Minerva was right, he couldn't take care of Hermione as a drunk. The previous week had proved he couldn't even take care of himself. He needed to ger better, even if it killed him.

Unfortunately, he soon found out that it would do everything but kill him.

* * *

The St. Mungo's Addiction Ward was not a place for the faint hearted. Nurses saw it all, they typical anger, sickness, but dealt with spontaneous magic, despite the fact that all patients were stripped of their wands. Withdrawal symptoms were bad in the best circumstances and in muggles. Add in witches and wizards and things escalate quickly. And for one Severus Snape, who had barely been sober at all in the previous 10 months, this wasn't the best circumstances.

The first two days were the worst. Severus had been awake the whole time, unable to sleep, the headache pounding away in his skull, constantly puking his guts up. The worst though had been hallucinations. If Severus had thought that seeing younger Hermione had been torture, then reliving his past with his wife was complete hell.

* * *

 **June 1972**

"How'd you do?" Severus Snape asked, sitting down at their table in the library.

Eleven-year-old, Snape was tall and incredibly thin, despite a year of Hogwarts feasts. His hair was long and so dark it always caught an unfortunately like, appearing greasy even when freshly washed. Much to his annoyance, he had a slightly larger nose, which was prominent on his youthful, but thin and rather hollow face. He didn't smile much, courtesy of his father's abuse and neglect, leading to crooked and slightly yellowed teeth.

"Trade," Hermione announced, sliding the parchment, with her exam scores, across the table to him.

Her bushy hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, keeping it out of her face while she read the large tome on the table in front of her. He could see the wayward tendrils of her bushy mane already tangling themselves around the band.

"Your transfiguration scores are amazing," he gawked, passing his paper to her.

"Yeah, but you beat me in astronomy."

"Eh, it was a bit of a hobby of mine pre-Hogwarts," Severus admitted, leaving out the part that the roof had been his safe haven during his father's drunken rants.

"Sweet Merlin," she swore, "your defense score is not human."

He blushed, tipping his head to hide his hair, while his mind shifted to the stack of questionable books in his trunk. While they were not outright banned, some of material within was rather dark. Severus was curious how Hermione would respond to the material.

They had discussed and debated many subjects and topics over the school year, but nothing along those lines. Lily had mostly bailed on him earlier in the year after catching him with Understanding Your Magical Enemy. She never hung out with him one on one anymore, only with Hermione around.

He was worried about losing Hermione too, but shrugged anyway and said, "I'll loan you a book."

"We were about equal in the other subjects," she announced before shouting in triumph. "Ha, I squeaked ahead of you in potions!"

"Slughorn's bias," Severus muttered.

"Bah, if he was biased, it would be toward you, you snake!" Hermione jokes, jostling him playfully.

Severus was grateful that she had gone straight back to her book and hadn't seen the way he flinched slightly in response.

* * *

 **March 1973**

"But the Unforgiveables are really more unnecessary than anything else," Hermione argued. "The magical input required for any of the three spells is enormous. Not to mention the negative emotional input. Those energy requirements would be simply draining."

Severus and Hermione were sitting down by the lake, enjoying an early, but most likely short break from the snows. True to his word, Snape had loaned her one of his books over the summer. The wait had been utterly painful, but less than a week after he had gotten home, Hermione's owl (a present from McGonagall on her twelfths birthday) had pecked at his window, and he wasn't carrying a howler.

The response had been promising, which was a relief since he had expected outright scorn. While she had made it clear that she disapproved of dark magic, she had several points of interest and hypothetical questions for him. Before the end of the summer, he'd sent her another book, which was met with much the same response. Despite having to be home, the summer had turned out rather well for him.

"True, but it's not really about the energy requirements isn't it? It's more about the fear component," Snape argued in response.

The continued, back and forth for a while. Each pulling books from their bags to help prove their points. They had quickly exhausted the stash of books Snape had pilfered from his mother's old trunk in the attic within the first few weeks of school.

With no other options left to them, the two had spent most of the year devising a spell to break the magical locks on the Restricted Section without getting caught. Their first attempt had alerted Madam Pince, earning Severus two weeks of detention - which they considered getting off lightly since the librarian has assumed, he was simply trying to sneak in. Their second attempt, which had been a month prior, was a success and they browsed to their hearts content, in the name of educational pursuits of course.

* * *

 **October 1973**

Dumbledore had decided, out of the blue, that instead of a Halloween feast, they should have a Halloween Ball. Third years and up had been invited to the ball held in the great hall on Halloween. First and second years would all have a mini-party of their own in their respective common rooms.

Rumors were circulating, probably from the upper class, that third years were only being included because the common rooms weren't big enough. Either way, the younger participants were going to enjoy themselves. The more popular students, like Sirius Black and James Potter had no concerns about asking a girl to the dance.

Tall, gangly Severus Snape was terrified, though mostly of the response than anything else. It had been three weeks since the ball had been announced and only another two until the actual day, so he'd told himself that he had to ask today, or someone else would beat him too it.

Watching her at their typical table in the library, he noticed once again, the wavy brown hair that was new this year. While he appreciated the new look, he thought it was a shame that endless comments about her out of control hair, and the frequent live occupant, all from the Marauders, had driven her to make the change.

Summoning his courage, Severus took his normal seat beside her, turning to face her when she looked up from her book.

"Hey Severus," Hermione greeted him with a smile.

He smiled back, something he found himself doing more and more often for her despite his teeth. Steeling himself before he lost his nerve, he decided to go for it.

"Hey, I was wondering," he started smoothly, and then she smiled at him encouragingly. "Um, if you might be interested ... but you don't really have ..."

He trailed off, his face glowing red with embarrassment.

"Yes, I'd love to go to the Halloween Ball with you Severus," she answered, chuckling lightly at his sudden awkwardness.

She went back to her book. He smiled as well, but then panicked, wondering if she thought he meant just as friends.

"But not just as friends, you know," he added quickly and somewhat quietly.

"I know," was all she said, peering up shyly from her book, a small smile hiding partially behind her curtain of hair.

To say that Severus Snape was floored would be an understatement.

* * *

Thirty-two-year-old Severus Snape puked and sobbed and swore and lashed out with bouts of wild magic. His mind seemed determined to remind him of the early days. The times in their lives where things had been easy and joyful between them. The time that she was now reliving without him.

His mind decided the visual torture wasn't enough though. It whispered his worst fears to him.

What if she finds someone else? She fell in love with you during school, why wouldn't she find love again? What if she falls in love with Harry Potter? Or even worse, the red-headed Weasley? You remember how irresistible she was to you when you were that age. Why would she pick you over her new love, even when her memories return?

At the height of the hallucinations, Severus had managed to control a bout of wandless magic, slitting both of his wrists open. The alarms had alerted the nurses, who had rushed in and patches him up despite his screams begging them to let him die. The magic had been so raw, that it had torn the flesh, rather than cutting it, leaving scars after it was healed.

However, the worst eventually passed and Severus rode out the rest of his stay in St Mungo's without further incidents. Eventually the headaches and the vomiting faded, he was able to eat solid foods again, and though he didn't believe that it would, the cravings started to fade.

More often than not, he still would have preferred to face reality drunk, rather than sober. However, the twitch of his hand reaching for the neck of a bottle faded. The dryness of his throat that he knew nothing else would quench disappeared. And he was able to sleep without being blackout drunk. Now he only had to find a way to cope with his life.

Minerva had picked him up from the hospital when it was time for him to leave. They had gone to her summer home. He smiled pleasantly, but the house held so many memories, much like his rooms at Hogwarts. One night over dinner, he asked her.

"How do you do it?"

She knew exactly what he was asking.

"I remember the good. All the love and joyous memories," she says, smiling fondly. "She's not dead Severus, quit acting like she's never coming home."

"And what if she no longer loves me?" He asked, wincing at the vulnerability he was showing. "I know what they call me. The greasy bat of the dungeon."

"Severus Snape," she snapped, startling him. "I've never considered you a fool, but at this moment. That girl is crazy about you. You two were meant for each other."

Severus nodded quietly, still nursing his insecurities, but warmed by the assurance of someone who just might know his wife slightly better than him.

"Now, when we get back to Hogwarts, you're to come have tea with me at least once a week. Hermione used to come have tea with me and I miss it. So, humor an old woman."

Severus agreed, seeing through the ploy for what it was, a way to keep closer tabs on him. Just maybe though, they really did need each other to get through these years.

Before they knew it, it was time to return to Hogwarts.

* * *

 **So, we are going to speed up a bit here and pass the middle years kind of quickly, then jump more into the meat of things!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Some lemony stuffs ... .**

* * *

Chapter 6 - Nightmare Relapse

 **March 1993**

"Severus," Minerva exclaimed, bursting into his classroom, pausing only when she saw that he had two students in detention, scrubbing cauldrons.

Snape looked up from his stack of essays, blanching at the grave look on the older witch's face.

"Detention is over," he snapped.

The two students instantly dropped the cauldrons and scurried out of the room, past the Gryffindor Head of House. No one was willing to question getting out of detention sooner than expected.

"What's wrong, Minerva?" Snape asked, sweeping across the room to hold her steady.

"It's Hermione," she whispered, "she's been petrified."

Severus let out his pent-up breath. He had heard the stories and knew that in the previous attack a girl had died, while others had only been petrified. While petrification was a serious condition, it was better than death. His relief was short lived as the severity of the situation descended.

He ushered McGonagall to his chair, sitting her down, while flicking his wand at the door to lock and ward it. His heart was pounding and all he wanted to do was rush to Hermione's side, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he helped to calm Minerva, helping himself in the process.

"Breathe," he told the witch. "Hermione is going to be okay. Pomona's mandrakes look good. I was just down in the greenhouses checking on them today. Where was she found?"

"Outside the library with Miss Clearwater. They both seemed to be looking through a mirror at the time," the witch answered.

"Smart girl," Snape muttered.

The staff had their guesses about what was behind the attacks. Most assuming a monster like the basilisk, the most likely, given Slytherin's penchant for snakes. How to stop the creature, who was behind it, and where the blasted thing was hiding were still unanswered questions.

Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to keep these things from the student body, insisting on wand oaths from the staff. Even with the old wizard gone from the castle, they were still bound by the oath.

As Deputy Headmistress, Minerva had instituted curfew and encouraged students to travel in groups or at least in pairs. It wasn't much, but it had been better than nothing. The board of governors still stood in the way of sending the students home.

"What are we going to do Severus?" Minerva asked.

He sighed heavily, the concern weighing on him too. Hermione had been in the hospital wing this year already, and now she would be spending most of the next few months there. He had to smile briefly though, as he would never let her live down the cat incident once she was back to her normal self.

"We are going to keep the students safe the best we can. It's all we can do," he muttered. "Now let's go be with her. It's after curfew, so no questions will be raised.

The pair made their way to the hospital wing, taking up vigil beside the girl. Snape sat in a chair by her bedside, holding her hand between his two much larger ones. She was as cold and as hard as stone, no signs of life beneath his fingers.

After a while, Minerva departed, leaving him alone with her. The quiet of the hospital wing was oppressive at that time of night, but for the first time since she left him, he was alone with her. Tears dripped down his face and he clutched her frozen hand like a lifeline. In the darkness, alone but for her, he let himself go.

"I miss you," Severus admitted to the darkness. "Oh, how I miss you. So much it bloody hurts."

He paused briefly, as if giving her time to respond.

"I never thought you'd actually leave me," he conceded. "Even though we knew it was a possibility. Even with Dumbledore ranting and raving about the greater good. I didn't think that you would leave me. Not with everything going on in our life."

Another pause.

"But you did. You left me. Without really any warning even. And I was furious for so long. At Dumbledore too, but at you most of all."

More pausing.

"But I finally realized that you didn't really have a choice. You never had a choice. Not when you tumbled back into my timeline originally. And not now. You did what was needed of you. You did what our world needed."

Pause.

"It's one of the things I love about you."

It was then that he really broke down. Tears and snot streaming down his face as he sobbed into his elbow, trying to muffle the sounds, so as not to draw the attention of the mediwitch.

Severus Snape was dry-eyed and composed once again as light started to filter into the ward. Poppy was just emerging from her chambers as he swept out of the hospital wing.

* * *

A week had passed with no new information, but also no new attacks. Harry and Ron took turns sitting with Hermione between classes when they could. And Severus had spent each night by her side, refusing to leave.

If there were other occupants in the hospital wing, aside from the petrified patients, Madam Pomfrey would simply draw a curtain around Hermione's bed. However, few students made excuses to go to the hospital wing, the beds filled with their frozen friends were too much to handle.

Most nights, Severus spoke to Hermione. Not the de-aged 13-year-old in the bed, but his Hermione. Sometimes it was trivial things, things they would talk about at the end of their days when she had been a teacher with him. Other times, he opened up, baring his soul, discussing his struggles. That night was no different.

"So, Pomona, says the mandrakes should be ready to harvest later this week," he told her. "Once they are ready, I can start making the restorative draught and bring you all back to us."

"It's really a screwed-up process," he admitted. "They're ugly little buggers, but they look vaguely human. Chopping them into little pieces and stewing them is a little disturbing."

Pause.

"I know Herbology was never your favorite subject. You were good at it, like you were at every subject. And you weren't afraid to get dirty. But you never really cared for it.

"Though, you preferred it to Divination. Merlin you hated that class. You are the sweetest, most tolerant person I know, but Trelawney always got on your last nerve.

"Ancient Runes though. You are phenomenal, a genius in your field," he said, a slight grin on his face as he remembered.

* * *

 **January 1978**

It had taken him three months to arrange everything. The ancient runes portion had taken him the longest to work out, it had always been her subject.

This was their last year at Hogwarts, not only NEWTs, but also the real-world looming on the horizon. The world, as it was, was dark.

Many of his Slytherin friends had joined up with the Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort cut an impressive figure, all charming smiles and promises of a better world for the magical community. No more fear of muggles. There was a part of Severus Snape that saw the appeal of his new world view. He knew that in another life, he would have been ensnared by the darkness.

In this life though, one Hermione McGonagall had saved him. They had been together since the Halloween Ball in their third year. Somehow, she had seen beyond the broken, skinny boy from a bad neighborhood, and he was glad that she had.

Severus Snape had grown into himself a bit. His hair was still long and dark, but thanks to a potion she had helped him make, it didn't look quite as lanky or greasy. While he was still thin, it was more a lean strength, rather than a gangly, awkwardness. Hermione had fixed his teeth for him back on third year. And best of all, he had finally grown into his nose. While it was still on the larger size, it wasn't prominent to the point of distraction. Even though, he didn't consider himself handsome in the traditional sense, he didn't think he looked too bad.

Though, his self-image had improved, he knew he was still way out of her league. With that in mind, he was determined to do everything he could to keep her.

As always, he found her at their table in the library. She was slender, tall enough that she fit nicely against his body, her head tucked under his chin. Her soft brown hair fell in gently waves, framing her face, with natural honey colored highlights. Amber eyes lit up when she smiled, her whole face radiating happiness.

It was that smile she bestowed on him as he approached her, sitting in his usual spot.

"Hey Severus," she greeting him, leaning over to give him a gentle peck on the cheek.

He returned her greeting, settling in to his seat and pulling a stack of papers from his bag. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, noting that she had gone back to her book, he tossed down his quill dramatically. Stray ink splattering across the page.

With a wave of her hand, the stray ink disappeared. She turned her attention to him, taking in his disgruntled expression.

"What is the problem?" She asked gently, placing her hand on his arm.

"These blasted equations aren't working. The runes aren't right," he explained.

"Alright," she said, "let me take a look."

She dragged the pile of papers over to her, flipping through the pages, checking the arithmancy equations and the rune translations. A confused frown crosses her features as she dug deeper. Beside her, Severus nervously palmed the small box in the pocket of his robes.

"So, what are these equations for?" She asked. "These runes represent love, life, fulfillment, and promises on their own. Plugged into the equation, it looks like you're trying to determine a specific outcome, the answer to a question."

Sitting silently, he waits, as she flips through more pages. The furrow of her brow starts to soften. Lovingly, he watches her as she figures it out.

The equations he has constructed are trying to predict the possibility of her saying yes to a specific question. The runes the input for the equations, showing their love, a long life of fulfillment and happiness.

Hermione looked up at him, with tears building on the brim of her eyes, silently asking if this is what she thinks it is. Severus is ready for her, confidently pulling the ring box out of his pocket and getting down on one knee beside her.

Looking deep into her eyes, he presents the box, opening it gently to reveal a small silver ring, with small rectangular gems, an emerald and a ruby set end to end. Her eyes drift from his, down to the ring. A startled gasp escapes her as she marvels as how perfect the ring is for them. Her eyes dart back to his, and she notes the large smile on his face.

"So, what do you think the odds are of you saying yes?" Severus asked.

She smiled gently and played along.

"Pretty good I'd say," she answered. "I guess he just has to ask."

"Hermione McGonagall, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He asked, gently pulling the ring from its place in the box, holding it out to her.

"Yes," she answered happily, holding her hand out to receive the ring. "Always and forever yes!"

With a wide smile upon his face, he slides the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. Clasping her hand within his own, he leans in to gently kiss her on the lips. She returns the chaste kiss, leaning into him as he pulls her hand into him, pressing it against his chest. He can feel the tears streaming down her face, and he breaks away, moving in to kiss away the tears.

The odd display of public affection on his part causes her to chuckle lightly. He laughs with her, pulling her into a tight hug, her head tucked under his chin perfectly.

"Thank you," he whispered gently into her hair.

"For what?" She asked.

"For loving me."

* * *

As usual, Severus took up his nightly vigil at Hermione's bedside after curfew, finishing his nightly rounds at the hospital wing. As usual, Poppy left him alone. The sleepless nights were starting to show on the dark circles under his eyes, against pale skin. Taking up his nightly watch, he started talking to her again.

"I am still not sure why you picked me," Severus admitted, holding the cold, stone-like hand in the darkness of the hospital wing.

Things hadn't changed much at Hogwarts in the previous couple of days, so he didn't have much to talk about there.

"You had so many options, so many potential suitors, and you picked me. You said yes to me. And that still amazes me," he admitted.

"Our life together has been wonderful. I hope, when you remember me, that you still love me. That you remember our best days. I hope we have time to have more amazing days," he choked out.

* * *

 **June 1978**

Severus Snape stood tall and proud at the front of their assembled family and friends. He looking splendid in his stark black dress robes, the silk lapels shining in the sunlight, a white chrysanthemum pinned to the left side. Beneath the robe, he sported crisp black slacks and a white button up.

Beside him stood Remus Lupin, looking equally dapper in his dress robes, though his light brown, almost sandy, was hair a mess. He placed a steadying hand on Severus' shoulder, easing the anxious wizard.

The two had become friendly though their mutual friendship with Hermione during their school years. Of all the Marauders, Remus was easily the most reasonable. Their friendship had not stopped the torment from the rest of the gang, but had limited the severity. Now, as members of the Order of the Phoenix, they had grown rather close.

Severus smiled at his friend, thanking him for the reassurance. Suddenly, the music started and the soft conversations that had been taking place among the crowd had died down. Everyone turned towards the back of the group.

The aisle was laced with small bouquets of assorted flowers, in white and cream, on either side, leading up to the small archway, covered in jasmines. This was all laid out on the Hogwarts grounds, the black lake sparkling on the background.

Then the woman he had been waiting for appeared at the end of the aisle, on her mother's arm. Severus' jaw dropped at he looked in awe at the woman who had somehow agreed to be his wife.

Hermione wore a strapless, pure white gown that hugged her torso, glistening, tiny, white beads decorating the bodice. The gown continued down, following the curve of her hips tightly, before flaring slightly at her thighs. The sheer white silk of the gown, mesmerizing him.

Remus nudged the groom hard, breaking him out of his thoughts of throwing her over his shoulder, carting her away, and ripping the dress off her. Severus turned his gaze on his bride's smiling face as she slowly walked toward him. Her hair had just been pulled back loosely, her face lightly done up with make-up. She was simply amazing.

Minerva walked next to her daughter, leading her to her future husband, draped proudly in gold and red dress robes to represent Gryffindor house. When they reached the alter, Minerva pulled Severus into a hug, and said loud enough for the entire wedding to hear.

"If you hurt her boy, I'll curse you to oblivion."

A light chuckle rippled among the assembled, including the bride and groom. Severus held his soon to be mother-in-law tight and assured her.

"Never in a million years would I think of making her life anything but bliss."

Satisfied, she left him go, turning to hug her daughter gently before taking her seat in the front row.

Hermione stepped up to the alter, completely ignoring the Ministry officiant, her focus entirely on her soon to be husband. She smiled widely at him. He gently grasped her hands in his own larger ones. Looking at his smiling face, the soft loving look, and the promise of eternal happiness in his endless obsidian eyes. She felt safe in his hands. They easily got lost in each other's eyes, the entire world fading away.

The officiant cleared his throat gently, the two lovers blushing lightly.

"Marriage is not just the joining of two people. It is a binding of the souls. The connecting of two people in mind, heart, soul, and magic for the rest of eternity. This journey is not under taken by the faint of heart, but by two people completely and utterly committed to each other."

Turning to Severus, he asked, "Do you promise to love Hermione throughout your lives together? Do you promise to support her in all of her endeavors, to care for her in all the phases of your lives, and to never doubt her commitment to you?"

"Always," Severus answered confidently.

Turning to Hermione, he smiled and asked, "Do you promise to love Severus throughout your lives together? Do you promise to support her in all of her endeavors, to care for her in all the phases of your lives, and to never doubt her commitment to you?"

"Always," Hermione assured him, speaking directly to Severus.

After wrapping a white strip of cloth around their bound hands, the officiant pulled out his wand, waving it gently over them. The cloth glowed brightly before vanishing, leaving behind a silver band upon Severus' left hand and a new small band next to Hermione's ring.

"Now, I am honored to pronounce you husband and wife. Wizard and witch, bound together by love and magic. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Snape," the officiant announced.

Severus leaned in eagerly, capturing her lips and a passionate kiss. The assembled friends and family applauded the new couple, some of their younger friends hooting and hollering in excitement.

The wedding moved onto the great hall, where the house elves had provided a glorious feast for the newlywed couple and their guests. The after party went long into the night. Members of the Order came and congratulated the couple. Several Gryffindors had cornered Hermione, offering their encouragement and advice, while Severus was speaking with the few Slytherin friends he had invited. One Lucius Malfoy clapped him on the shoulder, sincerely congratulating him on marrying an exceptional witch.

Later, Severus had managed to drag Hermione out onto the dance floor, holding her close as they move to the music.

"Now where did you learn to dance?" Hermione teased him.

"Your mother insisted. She said that no son of hers would look a fool on the dance floor," Severus explained. "I know more styles of dance now than I think I'll ever need."

Hermione chuckled and admitted that she's been submitted to the same treatment years before.

"Besides, I stepped on your toes enough back in third year," he apologized.

They waltzed across the hall for a while, lost in each other.

After a bit, Severus pulled her close and whispered on her ear, "Do you think we've done our duty to our guests long enough? Because I don't know how much longer I can resist tearing you out of that dress."

Hermione shuddered at the soft tickle of air against her ear and the way his silky-smooth voice washed over her.

"I'm sure no one will miss us," she assured him, pressing herself against his body.

Nipping slightly at her earlobe, he grasped her hand firmly in his and smoothly escorted her off the dance floor and out the doors of the great hall. They faintly heard the laughing and jeering of their friends as they not so subtlety snuck away.

Wrapping her in his arms, he leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hard body pressed up against her, his arousal evident. The kiss heated up, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned under his touch. Once hand reached up to trace his fingertips along the bare skin exposed by the low back of her dress, while his other hand held her firmly to him.

Severus pulled away from her reluctantly, his forehead pressed against her, panting heavily. He grinned wickedly at her before pulling her with him, down into the dungeons, where as a potions apprentice to Slughorn, his quarters were located.

Once inside his quarters, he couldn't help but press her up against the back side of the door, leaning down to plunder her mouth again. Hermione moaned and wrapped her hands around him, one tangling in his long hair, while the other trailed along the soft skin of his neck.

Growling into the kiss, Severus lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the living room and into his bedroom. He set her down gently onto the edge of his bed, before sliding to his knees in front of her. She leaned back onto her palms as she watched him gently take each foot in her hand, relieving her of the white, strappy heels.

With a smirk at her, he snaked each hand up her thighs, fingertips on skin raising goosebumps across her flesh. He pulled the stocking off her left leg, then proceeded to do the same on the right, tickling her inner thigh and causing her to throw her head back and gasp in pleasure.

Standing, he kicked off his shoes, before pulling her up to stand in front of him. Turning her gently, he pushed her hair over one shoulder, dipping down to trail kisses across her exposed neck. Reaching for the back of her dress, he deftly worked the many buttons on the gown. His head continued to dip as he placed soft kisses down along her spine, while peeling the dress off her.

Once stripped of her gown, Hermione turned in his embrace, pushing his robes off his shoulders and letting them pool at their feet with her dress. She captured his eyes as she dragged her fingers down the front of his crisp white shirt, undoing the buttons. Pushing the shirt off his shoulders as well, she wrapped her hands over his bare shoulders, exploring the expanse of his smooth chest with her palms.

He stared down at her, heat in his dark eyes, his breath caught in his chest while she explored. When her hands dipped to unbuckle his pants, he groaned, throwing back his head as she stroked his length while she pushed both his pants and shorts down. Stepping out of them, he lifted her gently and crawled onto the bed.

Lying beside her, his hand drifted down to her breast. First, he simply cupped it slightly, toying with the skin surrounding it. He could feel her strain against his hand, jutting her chest out. He moved to circling her nipple with his fingertip before lightly pinching and pulling the hardened nub between his fingers. At the same time, he leaned down and captured her other nipple in his mouth.

"Oh, Severus," Hermione moaned.

He continued to play with her nipples, moving to straddle her as he switched sides, his mouth moving to her other breast. She moaned and bucked beneath him as he flicked his tongue over her nipple, his hips grinding against her. He could feel that her panties were soaked through.

Breaking free of her nipple, he kissed his way down her body, wrapping his fingers in the waistline of her one remaining garment. Gently, he nipped at her soaked underwear, earning a groan of appreciation.

Pulling her underwear down her legs, he tossed them off the bed, returning his focus to his naked wife, spread out before him. He leaned up on an elbow, taking in her gorgeous body before meeting her eyes. She looked at him with want and need, her eyes practically begging.

He placed a few open-mouthed kisses on her pussy before crawling back up her body. He claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss as he lined his cock up with her opening and slid into her tight warmth. They both groaned around the kiss, breaking away to catch their breaths. Severus laid his head against her shoulder, fighting for control.

Wrapping her legs and arms around him, Hermione bucked beneath him, breaking through his barrier of control. Severus pounder into her and she met him thrust for thrust. Shifting slightly onto his knees, Severus kept going, hitting a new spot inside her that made her scream out his name as he brought her closer to her release.

Hermione panted heavily, wrapping her hand in his hair as he kept going. She could feel the pressure building low in her belly, the tension and power. Still meeting him on every thrust, her legs started to quake and it only took two more thrusts before he pushed her over the edge.

She screamed in ecstasy, her channel pulsing and clenching around his cock has he kept going. Severus followed her over the edge shortly after, moaning out his own orgasm as his hips jerked, spilling his seed inside her.

Gently, he turned them on their side, his cock still inside her. He brushed her hair back, peppering her face with soft kisses as her eyes fluttered open. She smiled as him.

"I love you," she said, before snuggling her head into his chest, her breathing evening out almost instantly.

"I love you too," he answered.

He summoned a blanket, covering them with it before resting his chin atop her head and following her to sleep.

* * *

Severus smiled wistfully into the darkness of the hospital wing. It hadn't been their first time, but it had been special nonetheless.

"We had some good times over the years, but we also had some bad times," he sighed.

"Joining the Death Eaters to play spy. I saw things I'll never forget. I did things I can't forgive myself for. All for the greater good."

He had spat the words out, as if they were dirty. And to him, they were. Tarnished by Albus Dumbledore and his war against darkness.

"If I'd ever been tempted by the darkness in my youth, I'm not any longer. I regret the darker spells I created in anger. Even though I've cast many, the siren song has little effects."

"Then again, not all the tough memories are Death Eater related. We've had our fights to be sure. No one is perfect, least of all me."

Pausing to think, he sighed deeply.

"Trust me, I know I'm difficult to deal with. If I were to forget, it would be fine since Minerva reminds me at every opportunity.

"And of course, there are not only fights, but the disappointments of life," he explained to the dark, dipping back into his memories.

* * *

 **December 1987**

Severus and Hermione sat on the bed in their chambers, his larger body wrapped protectively around her, while she sat in the circle of his legs. Her wand lay across her lap, waiting patiently.

"I don't know if I can do this again Severus," she admitted quietly, tears starting to drip down her face.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and she leaned back into him. He gently kissed her neck, then her jaw, finishing off by kissing away one of the salty tears making its trek down her cheek.

"You, my love, are so incredibly strong. We can do this. And if the answer is no again, we will survive and keep trying. It'll happen eventually," he assured her.

"And if it doesn't happen eventually?" She asked.

"Then we do it the muggle way. For now, just cast the spell love! We'll work through all the what if's as they come."

Hermione nodded, picking her wand out of her lap. Waving an intricate pattern over her abdomen, she muttered the spell, and after a moment the tip of her wand glowed red briefly. Throwing her beloved wand onto the bed in disgust, she sank into her husband's embrace.

"No again. Maybe We're just not meant to have children," she muttered sullenly, each word breaking her heart.

Easily, Severus slid from behind her, letting her flop back into the bed before climbing on top of his wife. His hands snaked their way up under her loose shirt as he planted kisses along her neck.

"Screw fate, destiny, and prophecy. The whole lot of it is garbage," he told her between kisses. Looking down into her eyes he assured her, "We will have a family. As many little beasts you want. If the natural way continues to fail, we'll turn to muggle science, and if that fails, the world is full of needy children. Even the magical world."

"We've been trying for nine months with no luck Severus," she sighed, clearly discouraged.

He smirked at her, "Then we'll just have to keep trying. You know what a chore it is!"

He finds her ticklish spot, determined to get a laugh out if her, and is successful. Then he pulls her shirt up over her head, lacking on to her neck, nipping and sucking as he reaches around to unhook her bra. She moans at his ministrations and he grinds his erection into her core.

"How about we try again now," he quipped, before sucking a newly exposed nipple into his mouth.

* * *

 **May 3, 1993**

Severus had already been in the infirmary that evening, administering the restorative draught, that he had just finished brewing to all of the petrified subjects. Sir Nicholas simply thanked him and floated off through a wall. The others however were still unconscious.

Poppy had gone behind him, dosing each patient with nutrient potions and sleep potions, so their bodies would rest and process the nutrients. Each would need several other potions, depending on how long they had been petrified, but all would recover.

He had chosen to take Hermione's care into his own hands, at least for the night. It would be the last night he had with her before things returned to how they were. Feeding her the nutrient potion, he couldn't help but think, that if they had managed to get pregnant, he would have been up to his ears in that potion.

After finishing her care, the trail of though continued. He thought that it had been lucky that she hadn't been pregnant when Dumbledore decided to de-age her. He didn't think either of them could have survived the loss of their child for the greater good.

He gently held the girl's hand in his own. It was no longer cold or hard as stone. Her hand was soft and warm, he could feel the pulse of blood beneath his fingers, proof she was alive.

Suddenly, a memory came to him unbidden.

* * *

 **June 1991**

Hermione sat in her chair by the fire as he returned. He had been assigned to escort the students off to the Hogwarts Express for their trip home for the summer. She looked lost in thought, so he had simply taken up residence in his chair, waiting for her to speak.

After a time, she looked up at him sadly. Tear tracks evident on her face and her wand laid across her lap. He knew what she was going to say before she said it, having known it was that time again, but he waited for her.

"No baby again," she announced bitterly.

"It's okay love," he assured her, words he'd spoken time and time again, for years now. "We can keep trying."

He noted an odd look on her face. A weird mix of sadness, resignation, and determination. The next words out of her mouth shocked him.

"No," she declared fiercely. "I think I'm done trying. It obviously isn't going to happen. I think it's time to stop."

"Well, we haven't tried the muggle way," he said, trying to reassure her that it wasn't hopeless. "And there is always adoption."

"No," she said again. "I am done love. I am tired of the frustration and constant disappointment. No more."

He stood from his chair and crossed over to hers. Kneeling in front of her, he grabbed her hands and looked her in the eyes.

"Are you sure, love?" He asked her.

He saw a moment of indecision in her eyes, then that weird look returned. The look that said, I have to do this.

"Yes," she said quietly, unable to say more.

"Alright, we will stop then," he consoled her.

Standing, he pulled her into his arms. She melted into his embrace. Lifting her gently, he carried her to the bed and laid her down. He pulled the covers up over her. Toeing off his boots, he discarded his robe and frock coat on the chair in the corner before crawling in beside her.

Hermione wrapped herself in his arms, tucked her head into his chest and sobbed. She cried in frustration, the hopelessness leaking out of her. Mourning the children, she would never have. Severus just held her as she cried, one hand rubbing circles on his back while the other carded through her hair.

* * *

He had always thought that it had been the years and frustration that had led to her decision and subsequent emotional breakdown. However, looking back now, he realized that she had known about Dumbledore's plan. Not just for a few days, but the whole damn summer.

Standing suddenly, he swept out of the infirmary in a flurry of black anger. He quickly covered the distance between the hospital wing and his quarters, slamming and warding the door behind him.

In a fit of petulance, he activated the floo between his room and Dumbledore's office, summoning the old wizard's well stocked bar to him through the flames. Bottles of fire whiskey, elvish wine, butterbeer, and even goblin-make moonshine emerged from the flames. Shutting down the connection, he threw himself into the chair and opened the first bottle of fire whiskey.

"To hell with sobriety," he muttered as he took a deep swig, the liquid burning its way to his empty stomach.

It wasn't long before his drunkenness sparked his rage and he set about destroying his quarters for the umpteenth time since his wife left him. Using brute strength, he smashed tables and broke chairs. Glass was shattered and books were pried off their shelves. By the time he was finished his muscles screamed, several possibly pulled, or even torn. His knuckles were raw, bloody, and bruised. He had made his way through most of Dumbledore's alcohol, even choking down the goblin moonshine despite the way it simultaneously froze and burned his insides.

Severus puked several times, only bringing up bile with his stomach already empty. Hours after the incident, he ended up snoring away, laying in a pile of his own vomit, in front of the fireplace, with empty and broken bottles surrounding him.

Later that morning, Severus' floo flared to life, an older witch stepping through.

"Merlin Severus, I swear. If you keep putting glass in you ..." she started to scold him, but stopped as she tripped over his passed our form and toppled onto the couch.

She noticed the torn cushions on the couch, the stuffing practically nonexistent, she could tell as her body ached from the fall. The rest if the room destroyed and her boy passed out in his own sick. The strong smell of alcohol and the empty bottles where a dead giveaway in regards to what had happened.

Sighing, she produced her wand and stood, surveying the damage. First, she fixed the couch. Then she vanished the vomit, cleaning the wizard up as best she could, before levitating him off the floor and onto the couch. He continued to snore away as she ran a quick diagnosis spell and patched up his visible damage, as well as a nasty looking tear to his right bicep muscle the best she could.

Since he was still out, she put his quarters back to rights, letting him sleep it off a bit longer. Finally, she connected the floo and summoned a sober up potion from the hospital wing, knowing Severus didn't keep them around any longer.

Settling down in his chair, the old witch gently nudged his shoulder. When the wizard slept on, she proceeded to more drastic means. Sharply, the smacked him in the face, keeping at it until he groggily came too, batting her hands away. Instantly, she forced the potion down his throat, knowing she had a small window to keep him awake in his current state.

The potions effects were very minimal, but worked well enough to wake him up and get him talking, even if his words were slurred and he was very confused.

"Severus, what happened?" She insisted, holding onto the man's shoulder to steady him in his sitting position.

"She fucking knew," he swore, his words slurred and hurried.

"Knew what?" The witch askes, knowing he was talking about Hermione

"Knew she was leaving. All damn summer," he shouted. "And never said a damn word until the day she left."

Minerva sighed and shook her head, mad at her daughter herself. She couldn't help but think, _Hermione, you really messed this one up_. But to Severus she said.

"Maybe she couldn't tell you son," Minerva consoled him. "We both know Dumbledore and his tricks. Don't make judgements before we know the truth."

Severus considered her words for a long time, his alcohol-soaked brain slow and confused.

"We were trying to start a family Minerva," he admitted to her. "We'd been trying for years. And she just gave up. Left everything we were building."

"I know, son, but Hermione never did anything without good reason. Give her a chance to explain," the older witch pleaded.

Severus nodded sadly, collapsing onto the couch again.

"Oh no you don't, son," Minerva said, pulling him to a standing position, struggling to support his weight. "Let's get you to St Mungo's."

* * *

Hermione woke in the hospital wing, groggy and disoriented. She noticed immediate that she felt exhausted and weak, and that her body ached all over, as if ever muscle, tendon, and ligament had been pulled and strained.

Before she should even try to move. Madam Pomfrey rushed over with a tray full of potions in tow. A flick of her wand placed the tray on the side table.

"Not so fast, Miss Granger," the mediwitch scolded. "You've been petrified for two and a half months; your body needs time to heal."

"Two and a half months!" Hermione exclaimed. "What about my classes?"

"Slow down," Madam Pomfrey admonished, pushing a nutrient potion into the girl's hands. "We will get to that in due time. For now, let's get you healthy. That's a nutrient potion, for the time you've gone without food. Your body didn't lose weight or muscle mass in its petrified state, but will start to now if you aren't eating properly and getting those nutrient supplements.

"This next one is for the pain you're feeling. All of the soft tissue was stretched and pulled taunt in your stone-like state. Nothing is damaged, but it will talk a few days for them to calm down. We also have a muscle relaxer to help that process."

Hermione downed potion after potion, listening to the healer explain the after effects of her petrification and the steps that would have to be taken to get her back to full health. After taking all the potions, a large breakfast was placed in front of her, with a stern Madam Pomfrey insisting she eat all of it.

It didn't take much coaxing, as Hermione found she was ravenous and dug into the food. Halfway through her meal, Harry and Ron burst through the infirmary doors. The mediwitch reluctantly accepted their presence, but warned them that she would kick them out if the didn't stay quiet.

Harry sat on the edge of her bed, while Ron took the chair and they started telling her the stories about the spiders in the forbidden forest, the diary, and the Chamber of Secrets. They mentioned Lockhart being a fraud and obliviating himself and Harry's fight with the basilisk.

Hermione took all the information in, her head spinning from all she had missed, and she hadn't even got to the academic parts.

"We haven't even told you the best parts!" Ron exclaimed. "No exams this year, since all this giant snake business interrupted so many classes and students."

Hermione couldn't help but feel disappointed despite the missed lessons and the mountain of assignments that no doubt waited for her.

"Yeah, and for some reason Snape is gone," Harry added. "Professor Dumbledore is teaching potions the rest of the year!"

"It's Professor Snape, Harry," she scolded him. "And I wonder if he's okay."

The boys looked at her funny over her concern for the dungeon bat, but shrugged it off as a side effect of being petrified for two months.

Hermione decided not to tell the boys about her weird dreams. Dreams of Professor Snape sitting and holding her hand, talking to her. She never could make out what he was saying in the dreams, but his smooth voice had been soothing. At least he had kept away the nightmares the other students who were petrified were reporting. As weird as dreaming of the fearsome Potions Master was, it was better than the alternative, and she was grateful.


	7. Chapter 7

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

* * *

Chapter 7 – Enter the Prisoner

 **June 1993**

"Ah, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as she entered his office. "Have a seat my dear."

The young witch entered slowly, unsure of why she had been called into the Headmaster's office. Sure, she was behind on her work for classes, but she had been petrified for two and a half months! They couldn't really blame her for that, could they?

Hermione had already been hard at work trying to catch up with the mountain of work she'd been provided with by her professors. That was as well as trying to keep pace with the current lectures and assignments. While final exams had be canceled for the year, she still needed to know the material. She knew that a lot of the magical theory built on itself, making the lower level information necessary for learning more advanced magic.

Jerking herself out of her own mind, she sat in one of the large comfortable chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. She politely declined the offer of a lemon drop from the elderly wizard, something in the back of her mind pressuring her. Hermione sat, waiting expectantly as he popped one in his mouth.

"Well, I guess you'd like for me to get to the point," Dumbledore said with a chuckle, watching the uncomfortable witch over his half-moon glasses.

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied quietly. "I'm not quite sure why I am here."

"Have you selected your elective classes for next year?" The Headmaster asked.

"No, sir. Professor McGonagall gave me the list of options and discussed the merits of each one, but I've been so far behind I haven't given it much time."

"What does your gut tell you, Miss Granger?" He inquired seriously.

"My instinct says all of them, but it's obviously not possible with overlapping class times," she admitted, feeling foolish.

"And if it was possible?" Dumbledore questioned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"You can't be serious, sir! It can't be possible," She scoffed.

"This is a magical world, Miss Granger. Anything is possible," Dumbledore assured her.

Digging into his desk, he pulled out a purple, velvet pouch.

"Now, you are a responsible student and I trust you not to abuse it. This should help you get caught up and take the classes you want next year."

He held the pouch out to her. She hesitated briefly before taking the pouch and carefully pulling the necklace from within. Gently, she observed the piece, taking in the hourglass shape within the rings, and the sand inside.

Softly, she read the inscription out loud, forgetting the other occupant of the room briefly, " **I mark the hours, every one, Nor have I yet outrun the sun. My use and value, unto you, Are gauged by what you have to do.** "

Dumbledore cleared his throat softly and she started before looking up at him. An amused smile crossed the old man's face.

"The time-turner is fairly simple. The chain must be worn around a part of your body. You just turn the hourglass once for each hour you wish to go back in time. However, you must never go back more than five hours at one time and you must never be seen by yourself. **Terrible things can happen to wizards and witches who meddle with time** ," he warned her gravely.

A small part of Hermione wanted to refuse the gift. It pulled and pushed at the back of her mind, begging for attention, trying to warn her. On the other hand, she thought of all she could learn and all the times she had though, _if I could only have more time_.

"And do not tell your friends about this Miss Granger," Albus insisted. "We can't go handing out time turners to every student, now can we?"

Hermione nodded, made slightly uncomfortable by something, almost calculating in the Headmaster's smile. Nevertheless, she looped the chain around her neck, tucking the hourglass beneath her shirt.

Once dismissed by the Headmaster, she took off to collect her bag and assignments from her dorm. She wondered how much time she could get in the library before the end of the year without being noticed. The time turner beneath her shirt itching to be used.

* * *

 **August 5, 1993**

A subtle screech outside the Burrow after midnight, startled Hermione out of her book. She had been using the shed as a place to study at night, when she used the time turner, all summer.

Crossing to the door of the shed, she peaked out, watching as the Knight Bus pulled away rapidly, leaving a single person standing in the drive. The figure got closer, dragging what looked like a Hogwarts trunk behind him.

Recognizing Harry, Hermione rushed from the shed, sprinting across the lawn. She wrapped her arms around the boy before he realized what was going on.

"Hermione?" Harry asked

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, looking the boy up and down, searching for injuries.

"I accidentally blew up Aunt Marge," Harry muttered.

"You what?" Hermione screeched, before remembering it was the middle of the night and lowering her voice. "What do you mean you blew her up?"

"She was bad mouthing my mum and dad. I just lost my temper and the next thing I knew she started blowing up like a balloon. She floated out of the sun room and then off into the evening," Harry explained. "I just panicked, packed my trunk and took off. Then that bus showed up and well, now I'm here."

"Merlin Harry! You could be expelled," Hermione exclaimed.

"I know Hermione", he said, trying to calm her. "I was hoping Mr. Weasley could maybe help."

Subtly checking her watch, Hermione quietly ushered Harry into the kitchen of the Burrow. Setting him down at the table, she moved to the stove, setting the tea kettle on. They stood quietly in the familiarity of the slightly, structurally questionable home, simply enjoying each other's company.

"So, what are you doing up this late?" Harry asked.

"Oh, just studying," she replied.

"In the shed?" he questioned, looking at her curiously.

"Let's just say that I don't get very much quiet time around here," Hermione told him.

The kettle whistled softly, saving her from more explanation, as she turned toward the stove to pull it off the flame. Setting cups on the table, she joined him again and they chatted about their respective summers.

As the sun crested the horizon, they heard the signs of the inhabitants of the home waking up. First to bustle down the stairs was Molly Weasley.

"Hermione, you're up early dear," Mrs. Weasley questioned from the other room.

"We had a late-night visitor," she responded, alerting the witch.

"Oh ..." Molly asked as she entered the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of the boy at the table. "Oh, Harry! It's so good to see you."

The motherly witch pulled him from his seat, wrapping him in a hug.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry grunted, wrapped in her tight embrace.

"Now, how did you get here?" She asked, flicking her wand at the stove to get breakfast started.

"Er, the Knight Bus dropped me off. My Uncle kind of, um, threw me out," he hedged, telling a version of the truth.

Before she could respond, Mr. Weasley appeared in the kitchen.

"Morning Hermione. Morning Harry," he announced as he walked over to hug his wife.

Hermione chuckled, "Morning Mr. Weasley."

"Er, Harry? Were we expecting you?" Arthur questioned.

"Um, no sir. Sorry to intrude," Harry responded.

"No intrusion at all dear, you are always welcome here," Molly assured him.

Just then, the floo flared to life with an unfamiliar witch's head in the green flames.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the Minister requests permission to come through," she explained.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Weasley responded.

The connection ended and then the flames flared green again, an impeccably dressed, but short and portly man appeared in the kitchen.

"Good morning Minister," Arthur said. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"Yes, good morning Arthur," Fudge replied. "I'm here concerning Mr. Potter. Ah yes, there he is."

"Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic," the man said by way of introduction, extending his hand to the baffled young wizard.

Hermione gently elbowed Harry in the side, snapping the boy back to himself.

"Oh yes, sir. Harry Potter," he responded, shaking Fudge's hand.

"Now, you gave us quite a scare young man," Fudge announced.

"Um, sorry sir," Harry apologized, not entirely sure what for.

"It's alright. I was just glad to find you safe here with the Weasley family. Furthermore, the situation with your aunt has been resolved fully. So, no need to worry there," Fudge explained.

"Resolved? I'm not in trouble?" Harry had to ask.

"Of course not, dear boy," Fudge assured him. "Accidental magic is just that, accidental. No harm done."

Leaving it at that, Fudge turned back to Mr. Weasley, "Now Arthur, I'm sure he is safe in your hands, so I'll leave you to it."

"Would you care for some breakfast Minister," Molly asked as she was placing large plates of food in front of both Harry and Hermione.

"No thank you Molly," Fudge declined. "Appointments to get to."

With that and a handful of floo powder, he stepped back into the fireplace and was gone. The rest of the Weasley trickled down to the breakfast table and life went on.

* * *

 **September 1, 1993**

The trio had got to the platform late and were not scrambling to find a compartment to sit in. They squeezed past the press of students, looking for a seat and connecting with friends.

They almost passed by a mostly empty compartment. Taking a second look they noticed only a passenger sleeping against the window, and decided to shuffle in, shutting the door behind them. The three teenagers stuffed their rucksacks in the overhead rack, settling the animal cages.

"Who is he?" Ron asked, turning to sit down on the bench.

"His bag says Remus Lupin," Harry announced.

Hermione froze in the middle of storing Crookshank's carrier, a chill running down her spine. Something in that name sounded familiar, something that tugged on the back of her mind. Unable to follow the feeling any further, she finished stowing the carrier, and took her seat as if nothing had happened.

Neither of the boys seemed to notice that anything had happened. They were chatting about the last quidditch match they had played in the orchard. The man against the window didn't move throughout their conversation.

Suddenly, the train screeched to a jerky halt, jostling the three.

"What was that?" Ron asked.

They heard similar questions coming from the hallway as students poked their heads out to see what was going on. Nothing seemed immediately amiss, so compartment doors shut as students settled back down to wait out the delay. The same went for the three Gryffindors.

A few minutes later, the temperature in the compartment seemed to have dropped drastically. The exterior window seemed to freeze over, and fog was building on the compartment door. In the hallway, a dark shadow lurked.

The shadow stopped outside of their compartment, a clawed hand reached out and opened the compartment door, letting it in. The cloaked creature leaned him, observing the occupants before locking its focus on Hermione.

The witch sat in her seat, her breath visible in front of her, fear and despair building on her heart. She could hear voices, whispering fiercely. Within her mind, she felt a pounding pressure building and a blinding light. It continued to build as the creature reached out to his, leaning his hooded head towards her. The white light in her head flared even brighter and pulsed, as with its own life. The power building within pushing outward.

Suddenly, the hooded figure reared back away violently, turning its head, looking for another victim. It honed in on Harry, leaning into the boy. Hermione was too drained to do anything after the buildup of magic had been expelled. Ron was frozen in place.

Suddenly, the blinding light was back, coming from the now awake man's brandished wand. The creature retreated into the hallway and then further down the train car. Remus knelt to straighten Harry, who had passed out, while also checking on the other two teenagers in the compartment. Once Harry had regained consciousness, the man departed. Shortly after that, the train started moving again, continuing on its way to Hogwarts.

* * *

There was a strong knock at his door. Severus thought it odd for there to be a caller at his door this late, but now that the school was filled with students again, it wasn't impossible. The knock came again as h reached the door, throwing it open in the hopes of intimidating whoever it was on the other side.

"Those tricks won't work on me, old friend," Remus announced with a chuckle.

Severus' expression changed from a fierce snarl to a broad smile.

"Get in here, you!" Severus demanded. "Before someone sees your scrawny arse."

Shutting the door, after Remus has entered, Severus turned and collapsed into his chair, gesturing to the couch.

"Didn't you have another chair?" Remus inquired, while taking a seat on the couch.

"Don't ask. And, where the hell have you been while I've been dealing with all this bullshit on my own? Some best man." Severus muttered.

"On the continent. Doing some sniffing around for Dumbledore, but also the only place I could get a job from time to time," Remus informed him.

"Ah yes, Lord Dumbledore and his orders," Severus muttered sullenly, wishing for a drink.

"I saw your girl earlier," Remus mentioned. "Took everything in me to be near her for even a few minutes without letting anything slip. Gods she looks exactly the same as when we were kids. Though, I guess she hasn't figured out the hair trick."

"Yes, well James and Sirius had a lot to do with her motivation behind that one," Snape answered.

"How have you managed to teach her and not go insane?" Remus asked. "I'm not sure I'll be able to do it."

"How do you know I haven't? Gone insane that is. I'm a widower being haunted by his wife's younger self. It has been hell," he admitted. "And to top it all off, James' boy drags her into trouble with him left and right! Nearly three months, Remus, she spends nearly three months in the hospital wing last year! And that isn't counting the polyjuice incident."

"Polyjuice incident?" Remus asked.

Shaking his head and smiling ruefully, Severus answered, "Yes. My brilliant wife, being the witch, she is, brewed polyjuice potion absolutely perfectly with all the memories and magical capabilities of a twelve-year-old."

"Then why was she in the hospital wing?"

"Because she lifted cat hairs off the robes of the student she was planning on impersonating," Severus said, unable to stop the laughter that followed the memory of his wife as a cat.

Once Remus had stopped rolling with laughter as well, he choked out, "You have to show me that memory!"

"Oh no! When she comes back to herself, my wife will be annoyed at me for holding it over her head. However, if I share it, she will kill me. Once she's back, ask Potter or Weasley if they'd be willing to risk their lives. I'm sure you'll get the same answer though," Severus chuckled.

"It's good to see you, Severus."

"It is good to see you as well, Remus. Despite the circumstances," Snape acknowledged.

"You still don't think Sirius did it, do you?" Remus asked.

"I never thought I'd be vouching for Black, but no, I don't think he betrayed them. I don't even think the threat of the Kiss would have turned Black against James," Severus said. "It helps that I never saw Black anywhere near the Dark Lord. But then again, I never saw anyone else close enough to James and Lily that they'd make secret keeper."

"The Dark Lord?" Remus inquired.

"One must keep up appearances," Severus admitted. "You never know who is listening so even in my private chambers, I must never slip."

"Understood," Remus agreed. "Albus seems to think that Black is coming for Harry."

"Not outside of the realm of possibilities," Severus agreed.

"Well, I have a horde of moody teenagers to get prepared for, so I'll depart," Remus said, making his way to the door.

"Use the floo, wolf," Severus teased. "Your comings and goings won't be noticed that way and I expect you to visit often and help keep me sane this year. One more year with Minerva as my only confidant and I might check myself into Mungo's Asylum."

Remus chuckled softly, but agreed, departing in a flare of green flames moments later.

* * *

 **September 3, 1993**

"So, third year Defense Against the Dark Arts focuses mostly on dark creatures, how to identify them, and how to most effectively defend against them," Remus explained, his gaze traveling over the room of students. "However, briefly, I want to go over a few basics before we dive in."

There was some murmuring among the class, but he mostly ignored it for the time being. Hermione watched her Professor, feeling a strong pull of recognition, like she had met him before, even though she knew that she hadn't. The more she investigated that feeling with her mind, the more resistance she got, running up against invisible barriers. Frustrated, she simply settled in to listen to her defense professor, pointedly ignoring those feelings. For not at least.

"Now, who has ever had to use a defensive spell taught in this class?" Remus asked.

A few scattered hands went up among the Gryffindor/Slytherin third year class, though the clump of three hands at one desk caught his eye.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter. Silly question I guess," he responded wryly. "Well, how about this. Has anyone used or seen a non-defensive spell used for defensive purposes?"

Three hands went up in the room and they were all from the same table.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, what spell did you see or use and how?"

"Well, Hermione levitated Harry as he fell off the back of a troll in first year," Ron explained.

"Is that so? Hmmm, interesting choice. And what happened when she levitated you Mr. Potter?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Um, I guess I jolted back up before being lowered to the ground," Harry responded.

"And do you know why that was, Miss Granger?" He continued the line of questioning.

"Because it's a spell designed for levitation Professor. The intention of the spell is to lift, so the initial movement was up. After that, it was controlled by my wand movements," Hermione explained.

"Excellent," Remus said. "Now, can anyone tell me why that wouldn't work for someone falling from the top of the astronomy tower?"

Only one hand in the room was raised. Remus waited a moment, but no one else seemed able to answer or willing to hazard a guess. He called on Hermione to answer again.

"Because the spell isn't designed to slow. My guess would be that the upward response would be equal to the downward momentum. At best, that would result in a bad case of whiplash," she concluded.

"Very good," Remus told her, momentarily nostalgic. "Now, we are going to cover a few very basic spells for defense, including shields and disarming. Many of the creatures we discuss will have specific weaknesses, but basic defense will always buy you some time at least!"

* * *

"Gods Severus, I don't know how you do it," Remus sighed, sitting once again on the potion master's couch. "It's like falling 20 years into the past! Such a brilliant little witch."

"Almost," Snape agreed. "She was much more confident in our time. Between you, me, and Lily, she felt academically challenged at least. And she wasn't the only one volunteering to answer in our days. Though I suppose I am to blame for the lack of confidence more than I'd like to admit."

"Oh?" Lupin inquired.

"I always seem to end up with Gryffindor/Slytherin potions for their year. And of course, I must favor my snakes. Which often leads to tormenting the Gryffindors, specifically those three. Keeping up appearances as usual," Severus sighed. "I'm sure Dumbledore does it on purpose, so I don't get too close. Her hating me does make it somewhat easier during class to manage, but harder to live with myself in general."

"But you've been managing alright, haven't you?" Lupin asked, concern in his eyes.

"Only if you call two stints in St. Mungo's Addiction ward alright," Snape admits bitterly.

"Oh Severus ..."

"Enough. No pity parties for me. Minerva looks out for me and I manage the best I can," the wizard announced. "It is what it is."

* * *

 **November 1975**

"Why don't you say something to them? Or retaliate?" Severus asked, as he de-tangled a still writhing salamander tail from her hair.

Class had ended - few minutes before, leaving the two alone in the classroom. Despite her straighter hair, it still took a while to get certain creatures, or rather bits of creatures, out.

"What would be the point? Sirius would still be a pig and James still an arse. It would just rile them up more if they knew it bothered me," she said, shouldering her bad, kissing his cheek gently, and walking towards the door. "Besides, who says I don't retaliate."

She had called the last bit over her shoulder, so he had rushed to catch up.

"What do you mean?" Snape questioned.

"Boys!" She huffed in annoyance. "Not an ounce of subtlety. Let's just say the 'down stairs' problem Sirius has to see Madam Pomfrey for often isn't related to his extracurricular activities."

Severus winced, almost feeling sorry for the guy, but the memory of one too many hexes to the back cured that. While the Gryffindor boys were too honorable to hex a girl unprovoked, they had no such reservation in regards to him.

"And James, he's just showing off for Black. So, I leave him be mostly. If he wasn't dating Lily, I'd bet money those two were secretly gay and a couple," Hermione continued.

Shaking her head sadly, she added, "It's a damn shame the whole world is so backwards, that even if it was true, they'd feel the need to hide it. Muggle and wizard both, though the muggles are coming around faster."

The two walked to lunch together, Severus pulling his sweet, caring, and devious witch into a quiet alcove briefly to let her snog him senseless, before continuing on.

* * *

 **November 18, 1993**

Remus Lupin burst through his floo, in fits of laughter. Breathing heavily, he made his way to the cabinet where he knew that Severus kept a small, personal pensive tucked away. Pulling open the doors, the grabbed the small bowl, gently carrying it over to the small dining table in the room.

"What are you doing Lupin?" Severus asked, eyeing the device.

"You have to see this," Remus chuckled.

He pressed his wand to his temples and withdrawing a silvery strand of memory. Gently, he placed it in the bowl, stirring the liquid. Severus joined him at the table.

"What is it that we are watching?" Severus inquired.

"You'll see," Lupin said, trying to restrain more laughter, as he leaned forward into the bowl.

Together, the two entered Lupin's memory, fog swirling until it cleared. They were in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The desks were pushed against the wall and the students stood in a cluster. Remus was standing next to Neville Longbottom, in front of a large wardrobe.

" **Professor Snape," Neville whispered.**

" **Professor Snape ... hmmmm ... Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?" Remus asked.**

" **Er — yes," said Neville nervously. "But — I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."**

" **No, no you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "Can you picture her clothes very clearly, Neville?"**

" **Yes," said Neville.**

"Good, now when the boggart appears, picture Professor Snape in your grandmother's clothing and preform the spell."

Severus turned to Remus, standing next to him and watching the memory.

"Really?" Snape asked. "You encouraged this madness?"

Remus smirked at him, "Of course, now watch."

Rolling his eyes, Snape turned back to memory Remus as he flicked his wand and opened up the door.

Out of the depths of the wardrobe prowled the boggart Snape dressed in his usual black robes. Neville was visibly shaking as the boggart stalked towards him. Finally, he performed the spell and the boggart staggered back, the dark black robes changing rapidly. Within moments, the boggart Snape stood in low heels, wearing a long green dress, with most of a fox wrapped around his neck and a vulture on his head, clutching a large red bag.

Remus broke out in laughter at the same time as memory Remus and the rest of the class. Severus tried to maintain his signature glare, but failed and joined the laughter, clutching his sides. The memory continued to play, as the class formed something resembling a line and Weasley stepped forward next.

"Oh blast," Remus muttered. "I was too distracted that I didn't cut the memory off right."

"It's fine," Snape chuckled. "Seeing some of their fears might give me some ammunition and a chuckle.

They watched as the next three students stood up against the boggart, laughing as mundane fears turned into a humorous counterpart.

However, suddenly Severus froze, his gaze not on the boggart, but on Hermione Granger. She stood near the front of the group, laughing along with the students. Like most of the class, she had shrugged out of her robe, leaving it draped over one of the desks. What had caught his eye however, was the gold chain holding a small hourglass inside two gold rings hanging against her shirt.

Without saying a word to Remus, he rapidly pulled himself out of the memory. Noticing that he was alone, the werewolf pulled out of the memory as well, watching Severus storm towards the door. Hurrying after him, he hollered, trying to get the man's attention, but nothing could stop the dark wizard. The wolf simply followed him through the halls of Hogwarts.

Severus stormed through the castle, seeing red. He couldn't believe that the crazy old wizard would be so stupid. Reaching the gargoyle, he bitterly spat the password, taking the steps two at a time once they appeared.

Bursting through the door to the Headmaster's office, Severus roared, "You gave her a time turner?"

"A what?" Remus asked, having managed to keep up and join.

"You did what, Albus?" Minerva screeched at the same time the Defense professor had spoken.

Neither man has seen her sitting in one of the guest chairs in front of the desk. Now, she stood beside Severus, just as enraged.

"How stupid can you be, old man?" Snape snapped.

"This is incredibly irresponsible and reckless," Minerva added.

"Silence, both of you," Dumbledore demanded sternly. "Remus, if you wouldn't mind shutting the door, then we can all take a seat and discuss this like civilized adults."

Remus did as he was told, before taking a seat, in the third chair Albus had summoned, beside the two seething professors. Watching them carefully, he thought he saw murder in Severus' eyes, with Minerva not far behind by the looks of it.

"Lemon drop?" He offered, holding a bowl out to the three after popping one in his own mouth.

"Damnit Albus, you know I'll have none of your drugged candy," Snape growled knocking the dish aside.

"Drugged?" Remus questioned, though none were listening.

"What were you thinking giving the girl a time turner?" Snape demanded.

"Miss Granger is perfectly capable of handling herself like a responsible adult with the device," Dumbledore assured him.

"Perfectly capable of not getting caught, sure," Minerva admitted. "But it's not that I'm worried about. You know that time turner over use is dangerous Albus and can be addictive!"

"And the fourteen-year-old Hermione I knew wouldn't have hesitated to go back and study constantly if she had the ability," Severus confirmed. "Besides that, the blasted magic you had me use to lock away her memories expires when she turns seventeen. If she's aging herself faster, considerably so if I'm right about how much she's using the blasted thing, then she'll get her memories back sooner! Not that I'm complaining, but doesn't that go against your master plan?"

"No need to worry yourselves," Albus said. "I simply gave her enough potion to turn her back to age ten when we de-ages her."

"You what?" Both Minerva and Severus shouted.

"You planned this in advance you damn fool," Minerva declared.

"She put her trust in you and you lied to her!" Severus accused.

"Well, I didn't know it was going to work out quite like this!" Dumbledore defended himself. "You know how fickle prophecy can be!"

"Oh no, not another damn prophecy! This is what has been compelling you?" Snape asked. "Don't you know you're supposed to leave the damn things alone. They happen all on their own, that's the fucking point. But Almighty Dumbledore can't have something he can't control around. No rogue elements even if it puts good people's lives in danger."

"No listen here Severus! I will not sit by while you continue to question me. I do what I do for the greater good. Hermione chose to serve the greater good. I will do what I need to in order to make sure Voldemort is defeated," the Headmaster insisted.

"He's been defeated Albus. The old bastard is dead!"

"And I intend to make sure it stays that way," the usually calm old wizard roared.

Severus stood, staring the man down before sweeping away. Minerva followed, wanting to keep an eye on the distraught young man. Left reeling, Remus numbly followed them.

Once within the safety of his rooms, Severus immediately vented his anger, breaking several wooden chairs before Minerva could stop him.

"Severus Snape, I will stun you if you do not quit that. Frankly, I am tired off putting your chambers back together every time you destroy them," Minerva insisted.

Sulking, he stormed into his bedroom and Minerva heard the shower start. Shrugging, she settled down on the couch, flicking her wand at the broken chairs to mend them.

"And just how many times has he destroyed his rooms," Remus asked as he took up a spot on the couch beside her.

"Too many times to count," Minerva acknowledged sadly.

"And what did he mean by drugged candy?"

"Albus doses his lemon drops with a calming draught. It relaxes people and makes them feel comfortable, so they give up what he wants to know more easily," the witch answered.

"But he's always eating them himself," Remus said, shocked at the Headmaster.

"Yes, well, Albus doesn't seem to have any qualms about drugging himself. I'' not sure if the old goat has formed a resistance or an addiction."

Remus didn't know what to make of the situation, sitting quietly beside Minerva. They listened to the shower running in the other room, wondering what kind of mood Severus would be in when he emerged.

* * *

 **January 6, 1994**

Hermione sat at her normal table in the library, one set back in the stacks, away from prying eyes and the general murmur of students. However, it was the middle of the night, so neither were an immediate concern, just the potential for a professor to stumble across her. This far back in the library, the light from the lantern wouldn't be seen from the entryway.

Across the table in front of her, an array of books was laid out to various pages, all covering Occlumency. Most were from the main library, but a few had been pulled from the restricted section. She had been able to bypass the magical locks, even though it had taken a few months, eventually following her instincts to the proper spell work.

The focus of her extracurricular studying in the last week had been Occlumency. Since Professor Lupin has appeared at Hogwarts, she had more and more felt that he should be familiar, but when exploring her feelings, she felt blocked. So, obviously, mind magic was the next step.

Hermione had been practicing the meditations describes in the books and the handful of mental exercises. Now, she felt ready to fully dive into her mind for the first time. The books explained that the first time fully immersing would be the most difficult.

The mind would be building a landscape that she could connect with in order to access her thoughts, memories, and even her magic. Though her mind was already well organized, it simply had to give her a platform she could navigate. Once the landscape was developed, it would become easier and easier to navigate, manage, and protect, as long as she kept practicing.

Breathing deeply, Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed into her chair. At first, everything was simply dark. The silence and darkness stretched as she patiently moved through the exercise described in the text for exploring her mental landscape for the first time. It didn't take long for the image started to for in front of her. Gasping in delighted surprise, she realized she was standing in the Hogwarts entry hall.

Following pure instinct, she walked to the second floor, passing familiar paintings, each detail flawless. Stopping at a classroom she knew to be unused, she opened the door. The landscape changed as she walked straight into a memory of her fifth birthday. She recognized the familiar park near her home and the pink castle cake she had requested. Looking back, the door shape broke the landscape, showing her the corridors at Hogwarts.

Emerging from the memory, she tried to locate a specific memory by thinking about it. Her body moved in its own and the distance between the second and third floor melted away. She found herself in front of another door. Entering the room, she found exactly what she had been looking for, the memory of receiving her Hogwarts letter.

Knowing now, that he mentalscape was working properly, she brought up the thought of Professor Lupin, following that thread that made him feel vaguely familiar. She passed rooms that urged her to open them, simply looking in on memories from his classes. Finally, she ended up on the seventh floor, along an empty stretch of wall. The feeling seemed to dead end here, so she observed the location carefully.

The corridors was small, with a few scones littered about for light. The wall was blank. No doors, no paintings, just stone. Across from it was a large and odd painting of a wizard, surrounded by trolls in tutus and ballet flats. As the image moved, the man did his best to dodge the lumbering beasts.

Nothing seemed odd or out of the ordinary. Though, no matter how hard she tried to bring up that feeling of familiarity, it simply led here. Growling in frustration, she gave up her attempts for the night. She opened her eyes and started digging through the books for information. Looking for any hint why she would hit a dead end.

Hermione knew that she more she practiced and accessed her mentalscape, that if would come easier. With time, she would be able to use it without closing her eyes or even stopping a conversation she was having. Eventually, she could learn to hide her emotions within and even defend her mind against invasion. However, at the moment, her biggest question, was why did Remus Lupin feel familiar.

* * *

 **April 28, 1994**

"Damnit Black," Severus muttered as he crawled through the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, "you always were a stupid, selfish bastard. And now you dragged the wolf along with you."

Inside the shack, Harry and Hermione had burst into the upstairs room to find Ron laying on a dirty, dust covered bed in the corner, clutching Scabbers to his chest. He stuttered and pointed towards the back of the room, causing both teenagers to whip around. Behind them stood Sirius Black, arguing quietly with Remus Lupin. The adults looked up at them as they turned.

"Harry, you've grown," Black admitted. "You look just like James."

Harry lunged towards the wizard, but Hermione held him back.

Turning his gaze on Hermione, the escaped wizard looked at her in shock. His gaze made her feel uncomfortable.

"Well, what has that crazy old wizard gone and done now," Sirius muttered.

He seemed like he wanted to say more, but was elbowed in the side by Remus, who sharply shook his head.

"I trusted you, kept your secret, and you led him right too Harry," Hermione growled. "We can't trust him, he's a werewolf."

"It isn't what you think Hermione," Remus tried to assure her.

"Like hell it isn't," Harry swore. "He killed my parents and you side with him!"

"I did not kill James and Lily Potter," Black insisted fiercely.

"If you didn't then who did?" Hermione demanded.

Any answer they were going to offer was stalled by the arrival of one Severus Snape in the doorway, casting a spell disarming spell at Remus. He flawlessly caught the wand in his offhand.

Any feelings he had for the wolf, or belief he held in Black had to be pushed down for now. He couldn't be shown to favor Gryffindors in front of students. He simply had to round them all up and bring them to Dumbledore. As much as he hated the manipulative old wizard, he would be able to sort things out.

However, his plan would never get that far. As he pointed his wand at Black, informing the lot that he'd be bringing them back to the castle, he was thrown across the room with the force of Hermione's stunner. All four men in the room stared at her in shock.

She turned her wand on Black, "You never answered my question."

"Well, as dramatic and cliché as it sounds, and I do love being dramatic," Black declared. Leveling his finger on Ron in the corner, "it is the rat!"

"Scabbers is a rat," Ron protested.

"Not just any ordinary rat!" Black declared. "He's lived way too long to be just any old rat, even with the added lifespan of living among wizards. No, that rat is one Peter Pettigrew. Lowlife, coward, traitor, and murderer!"

"Liar!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at Black. "You killed Pettigrew!"

"No Harry," Remus said, putting himself between the boy and Black. "I thought so too until you told me he showed up on the map."

"You're just trying to protect him," Harry sneered

"We were all friends. We all became animagi to keep Remus company while he changed. Peter's form was a rat," Black explained. "Specifically, that rat."

"Prove it," Hermione insisted, knowing more about animagi than the boys. "Turn him back."

"Fine. The rat?" Black demanded.

Hermione wrestled a frantic Scabbers away from an unhappy Ron while Lupin retrieved his own wand and pilfered Snape's for Black. The second he laid his hand on it, Snape's wand shocked the man, causing him to swear and drop it. Remus rolled his eyes and passed his old friend his wand, picking Severus' wand back up.

"Not my bloody fault his wands as snarly as he is," Black muttered.

"Now Hermione, just place him between us and get out of the way fast," Remus explained, pointing his wand at the rat.

Hermione placed Scabbers down in the middle of the room, waiting until both wands were trained on the rodent before letting go and backing off quickly. Scabbers instantly tried to take off, quickly enough the two wizards missed the spell a few times before finally hitting it.

The small rodent quickly enlarged to a small, portly man, with a sharp pointed face and only wisps of hair left. It wasn't long before the guilt of one Peter Pettigrew was evident by his own cowardly admission. Despite Black and Remus' demands for revenge, they began the trek back through the tunnel with a lame Ron, restrained Pettigrew, and unconscious Severus. Hermione had handled Severus, being the most practiced of the youngest in levitation charms. She also gathered up his wand for him, shocked by the warm, familiar feeling of the wood in her hands.

Once out under the still immobilized willow, the light of the moon caught Lupin unawares. Everyone, aware of the werewolf in their midst, turned to watch as the wizard froze, his body already starting the transformation. Black tried to reason with the wolf, while the three teenagers huddled together. It was at that time that Severus recovered from the stunner, turning his anger on the three students, especially Hermione, as he snatched his wand.

The snarl of the werewolf had him turning rapidly, throwing himself up as a shield between the students and the beast. Hermione clutched him in fear, feeling safe and comforted by his presence.

Black, in the form of a large dog, engaged with the wolf again, the pair tumbling off into the trees. Harry took off after his godfather, prompting Hermione to attempt at following him. However, Severus was successful at restraining her, escorting her and Ron off to the hospital wing. Aurors who had arrived at Hogwarts after being warned by Severus had located Black and Potter after the dementor attack, imprisoning one while depositing the other in the infirmary.

* * *

When all was said and done, Severus sat in his chambers, Minerva and Remus on the couch, the latter looking more than a little rough.

Pettigrew had managed to escape in the fray, the Aurors unable to locate him on the grounds. Black had also managed to escape, still a criminal in the eyes of the Ministry without someone else to take the fall.

"So Potter managed to stun you huh?" Minerva asked.

"Hermione," Snape corrected.

"How do you know?" Remus inquired. "You didn't even see it coming!"

"I recognized the feel of her magic," Severus admitted sheepishly, "Though I prefer not to be the target of be offensive spells. Even with a reduced magic level, she packs a punch."

"I know. I saw Draco Malfoy's face after she was done with him," Remus grinned. "I did my best not to upset her in school. Though, Sirius and James were on her bad side more than a few times."

"Oh, yeah, pay up wolf," Severus recalled suddenly, holding his hand out expectantly. "I told you Black didn't do it."

Remus grumbled, but forked over a few galleons.

"You bet on Sirius Black being innocent?" Minerva asked in disbelief.

"No, I bet on Black being enough of a love-sick puppy to never turn on James," Severus admitted. "Two very different things."

"Yeah, well, you got stunned by a fourteen-year-old and your wife," Remus muttered childishly, stealing Severus' thunder.

"I know," Severus sighed.

"She aged herself an extra year, really?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes," Severus and Remus both responded, vividly remembering the girl's lust of knowledge and studying habits at that age.

* * *

Thanks for sticking with me so far and let me know what you think! Sorry that I don't reply too much to comments, but I love all of you for leaving them for me and appreciate the support! It keeps me writing. I have a 1 year old that keeps me busy though, so my screen/writing time is limited and I want to get chapters up for yall! Anyways, enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Just a little warning, that things are kind of dark in this chapter and there are a few possible triggers, so proceed with caution.**

* * *

Chapter 8

 **July 5, 1994**

Molly Weasley was the first one to really notice that something was wrong with Hermione. Sure, everyone in the family noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the irritability, but it ran deeper than that.

Hermione had stopped eating for the most part, only taking one or two bites at meals, and only because someone was watching her. The rest she would silently vanish bit by bit when she thought no one was watching. Molly had been watching though. She had noticed that the young witch had lost quite a bit of weight, all of her clothes incredibly baggy. Her hair had become very lank and brittle instead of its normal bushy halo.

The Weasley Matriarch was also aware that the girl had not been sleeping. She went into the room she shared with Ginny and laid down each night, at least until she thought everyone was asleep. Molly always hear the tentative steps on the creaky stairs each night.

Additionally, Hermione was jumpy at the slightest moments and just plain uninterested. She rarely read anymore, just staring off in space.

Molly was beyond worried. At first, she assumed that it would be a phase, but then it continued. Mrs. Weasley knew that Hermione had never really felt part of the family. She felt like the boys were brothers and Ginny her sister. Hermione treated her and Arthur as surrogate parents, but it wasn't mom and dad.

Not that Molly blamed her. Even though her memories had been locked away for a while, even magic couldn't erase the bond between Hermione and Minerva. Honestly, Molly thought it was needlessly cruel of Dumbledore to separate them. True, Hermione was the closest to Harry Potter, who usually spent a good chunk of his summer at the Burrow. That had been Dumbledore's plan all along and it was working well enough. Hermione was definitely the brains behind the trio, unable to keep the boy out of trouble in the first place, but usually able to get him out of trouble after the fact.

Either way, Molly considered Hermione part of the family and she was seriously worried about the girl. So much so, that she had written to Minerva and asked her to come for tea in the morning. The professor would be flooing in to the Burrow any moment, so Molly bustled around preparing the tea and setting the dining room table. They hadn't always been close friends, even after the first war, but had gotten closer since Hermione had de-aged, Molly trying to keep Minerva in the loop regarding the girl.

The floo flared green and the tall, older witch stepped into the small kitchen, brushing the soot off her robes. Molly had just finished setting the table and stepped across the room to greet her guest.

"Minerva, thanks for coming," Molly said, wrapping her in a hug.

"Of course Molly. It is good to see you," she replied.

"Well, come on, let's sit down," Molly told her, gesturing to the table.

The women sat at the table, the teapot hovering in the air, pouring on its own. They sat silently together, each preparing the tea to their preference. Once they had a few sips each, Minerva spoke.

"So, what's going on with Hermione?"

"She's not sleeping, not eating, and not interested in anything," Molly fretted. "She's lost a lot of weight too. I'm not sure what's going on or how to help her."

Minerva swore quietly, causing the other woman to look at her with concern.

"We told Albus that it was a stupid idea. And obviously he never told you to look out for signs of addiction!"

"Addiction to what?" Molly demanded.

"Time travel," Minerva answered quietly. "Albus gave her a time turner at the end of second year and took it back at the end of this last year."

"Why would he do that?" Molly asked in horror.

"Some nonsense about a prophecy. Anyways, if she used the time turner as much as Severus thinks she did, then honestly, she should have been checked into a program right away. We need to get her into a program, Molly," Minerva explained.

"Is it really that serious?"

"Yes," Minerva answered. "I can take her to St. Mungos today. The benefit to time travel addiction, is that she doesn't have a way to feed it. However, that makes the symptoms worse."

"How do you know all this?" Molly asked, slightly suspicious.

Minerva sighed.

"You cannot repeat this, but Albus has had some problems before. And Severus has been in an out of the addiction ward since she was de-aged," the older witch explained sadly.

"Well, we should go ahead and get this over with," Molly sighed.

Sighing, she stood from the table, crossed through the living room, and leaned against the stairs.

"Hermione, can you come down here please?" Molly gently hollered up the stairs.

Slowly, Hermione emerged from the room she shared. Carefully, she made her way down the creaking, crooked staircase, joining Molly at the base and following her into the kitchen.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," the girl greeted her politely.

Minerva saw the changes immediate. She was very thin and had dark circles under the eyes, but the biggest giveaway was the lack of interest or curiosity in her eyes. Hermione had always been incredibly observant, curious, and willing to question anyone.

"Have a seat dear," Molly encouraged, pulling a chair out for her.

"Hermione, we know about the time turner," Minerva explained.

The girls shocked look in response was the first sign of emotion she'd shown all summer.

"You're not in trouble," Molly assured her.

"We think that you are suffering from time travel addiction and the withdrawal symptoms of no longer being able to partake in your addiction," Minerva added gently.

Hermione sat quietly, not responding to any of the information.

"I'd like to take you to the Addiction Ward at St. Mungos. They are skilled in the treatment of all sorts of magical and muggle addictions. They'll be able to help you get back to your normal self again," Minerva explained. "Would that be okay?"

"Okay," Hermione responded, more automatic than anything.

A quick floo trip later they stood in the addiction ward. Nurses sat down with Minerva and the young witch. The discussed the problems Hermione had been having and talked through a plan to get her back on her feet. The plan included a range of potions to boost and encourage health, therapy, and an activity schedule.

They started her out on nutrient potions and small liquid meals. She struggled with bouts of nausea the first few days, but quickly progressed to larger meals with no episodes of vomiting.

Once they got Hermione eating again, the increased her daily activity. While not really big into exercise originally, she found that a healthy exercise routine to build muscle helped reduce the irritation cause by no longer time traveling. The small gym worked well and one of the nurses had started teaching her some basic muggle self-defense. Even though she spent a good deal of her days exercising and working with a councilor, she still had some extra time, which she spent devouring books on healing magics she had managed to bum off the spell damage ward.

It had only taken a week to start to feel normal again. Once she started eating again and the essential nutrients and vitamins levels in her body had stabilized, her energy had returned. After three weeks, they had deemed her good to return to the Burrow. They had reminded her time and time again that she wasn't cured, but that she had the tools to cope now. The nurses and councilors of the ward had also taught her to look for warning signs of relapse for the depression and anxiety and got her to promise she would return if she needed it.

Back home at the Burrow, nothing had changed. Molly had explained it away as her visiting with a long-lost grandparent, leaving it up to Hermione to decide if she wanted to tell them herself. For the time being, she had chosen to keep it to herself. Besides, the Weasleys were too revved up for the impending World Cup to notice much.

* * *

 **December 16, 1994**

Hermione marveled at the interior of the great hall as she arrived for the Yule Ball, unaware of her classmates gawking at her. Magic had transformed the hall into a spectacular ice castle. The floor was as smooth and crystal clear as a frozen lake, while massive, glistening icicles hung from the ceiling, charmed to stay in place. Several ginormous pines had been brought in from the Forbidden Forest and were decked out in ornaments, each representing one of the four houses of Hogwarts and one each for Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. A magical snow had settled in a pristine layer amount the branches of the trees. Despite the snowy atmosphere however, the hall was pleasantly warm.

Tearing her gaze from the decorations, she caught the dazed looks of Harry and Ron, both acting as if they had just realized for the first time that she was a girl. She had found a spell to help tame her hair, the usually bushy mess falling in gentle waves around her shoulders. The lacy layers of her dress fell around her, alternating in blue and purple, creating a soft periwinkle color. At Ginny's insistence, she had applied a little bit of make-up. Apparently, that was all it had taken to send the while hall into whispers of disbelief.

Thankfully, it wasn't long until her gaze landed on her date for the night. Victor Krum cut an impressive figure in his red robes with fur trim. He smiled broadly at her and bowed slightly as he stood before her. It was only moments later that the students had been called to order and the champions herded to the middle of the dance floor with their dates.

The music started and Victor led her across the crystalline floor with a grace that surprised her. Despite being a supreme flier, Victor often seemed awkward on land, though Hermione was thankful that did not extend to his dancing.

After the first few minutes of the song, others joined in the dance. Dumbledore escorted Madam Maxine onto the dance floor, leading the charge. Shortly after Neville and Ginny had joined and then the hall was full of couples dancing. After having danced with Victor for a while, Harry had cut in, wanting to dance with his friend and at least try and enjoy the ball. While not anywhere near as graceful as Krum, Harry wasn't terrible. He had only stepped on her feet once, making Hermione thankful that she had given in and practiced with him some. She had coaxed Ron into dancing with her next and instantly had regretted it as he stumbled across the dance floor, almost causing her to twist her ankle. Luckily for her, George cut in, rescuing her from his clumsy younger brother. Finally, she was spun around the hall with Fred before begging off to get a drink.

Victor had met up with a few of his friends while she had danced with the men, she considered brothers. From her place at the drinks table, she surveyed the crowd while she sipped her pumpkin juice. Fred and George had gone back to their dates, though switching partners seamlessly and often enough it was hard to tell who was with who. Dumbledore had just finished dancing with Professor McGonagall and was dragging Professor Sprout into the floor. Ginny waved enthusiastically at Hermione as she danced with Harry for the moment, though Neville was moving to intercept.

Then Hermione's eyes landed on Professor Snape, standing on his own to the side of the dance floor, looking almost sad. He was watching her and their gaze locked for a moment across the room before he looked away. She suddenly felt her body tugging her ever so gently in his direction and her mind wondered if he'd like to dance. At first, she just shook her head and smiled, thinking she was being silly and that someone must have spiked the pumpkin juice. It wasn't long though before she was skirting the dance floor towards the tall, dark professor, thinking it rude that no one seemed inclined to dance with him.

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione greeted, smiling up at him.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged with a nod, avoiding her gaze.

"Would you care to dance, Professor Snape?" She asked sweetly.

"That would be inappropriate, Miss Granger," Snape declared.

"What is inappropriate about a dance Professor?" She inquired. "And it can't be just because you're a teacher. Fred and George both escorted Professor McGonagall around the dance floor earlier."

While Severus took a minute to come up with some kind of rebuttal, Hermione listened to the strong urge and simply took his hand, pulling him out in the floor with her. Since his options were to either dance with Hermione or make a scene, Severus adjusted the positioning of his hands and took the lead, waltzing her around the room. Hermione gasped in surprise at the seamless and sudden change in control.

"You are a wonderful dancer, Professor Snape," she praised him. "It's a crime for you to be hiding in corners."

Severus couldn't help, but catch her eyes and feel like he was falling into their depths. She smiled at him and he melted. He wanted to pull her into him, hold her close and never let her go. But she wasn't his Hermione, not yet. He uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"Yes, everyone is lining up to dance with the greasy dungeon bat," he sneered.

"Well, they are missing out, which works out just fine because I get to enjoy you all myself," she retorted.

He couldn't tell if she was teasing him or flirting with him, though he suspected the former. Pushing it from his mind though, he forced himself to simply enjoy the dance and her company. It had been so long, his body ached for his Hermione, just to hold her close. Even though it wasn't quiet his witch, he enjoyed the easy companionship and innocent touches.

In the corner of the room, Minerva watched as Severus led Hermione across the dance floor, with a wide smile on her face. Hermione's body seemed to remember dancing, even if her mind had forgotten, and she moved gracefully. The wizard stiff and formal, he was torn between enjoying himself and reminding himself that she didn't remember him yet.

Minerva had to give herself the credit for Severus' skill, since he had been awkward and clumsy before she's forced him into lessons before the wedding. Smiling, the older witch remembered another ball from many years before.

* * *

 **October 31, 1973**

"I can't believe he finally asked me, mum," Hermione said, sitting at the vanity in Minerva's chambers. "It took him long enough that I thought I was going to have to ask him myself."

"Go easy on the poor boy, my dear. You know how hard his life has been. He had loads of talent, but not a ton of confidence," Minerva explained, running a brush through the girl's bushy mane.

Hermione got frustrated as the brush caught on another tangle and pulled her wand from her sleeve, quickly spelling the mass into submission.

"Kill joy," Minerva muttered. "You know I love your hair natural."

"I know, but Lily is coming to get me in half an hour, to walk down to the hall together."

"Fine," the older witch conceded, running the brush gently through the now wavy hair, before pulling roughly half of it back into a low pony tail, letting the rest hang free.

"And I know all that about Severus, which I why I didn't march up to him on the day Professor Dumbledore announced the ball and asked him," Hermione explained. "I had to suffer through Black asking me to the dance because I waited! I suffered through detention!"

"Which you earned," Minerva told her sternly. "It would be wise not to remind me of these things or you might not be going to the dance."

"It was just an engorgio," Hermione muttered, disappearing into the closet for her dress

"On his tongue! The poor boy couldn't speak and nearly passed out," Minerva scolded.

"Well, he deserved it."

"Enough. Peace child," Minerva pleaded. "Let us just enjoy the night ahead. You have a sharp, talented, savvy young man on your arm tonight! Now let me see you!"

Hermione stepped out of the closet, sporting a sleeve-less, floor length, emerald green dress robes, with a moderately low back. While she had grown into a young woman quite rapidly over the summer, the dress made her look quite a bit older.

"Oh, my dear, you look amazing," Minerva gushed. "Not that I approve of Slytherin green, but that boy won't know what hit him."

Hermione blushed and was saved from coming up with a response by a knock at the door. The younger witch rushed to answer it, revealing the young, red-headed Gryffindor in deep, wine-red dress robes with three-quarter length sleeves and a lacy skirt.

"Oh, Mione! You look amazing," Lily greet her. "Hello Professor."

"Miss Evans," Minerva greeted. "You look splendid this evening."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Alright girls, have fun. I'll see you down in the great hall in a bit," Minerva said, ushering them on their way.

"Thanks mum," Hermione whispered, hugging the older witch briefly before taking off with Lily.

Later on that night, Minerva had watched as her daughter danced with her date, Severus Snape. The fast friendship between the two had seemed odd at first, to the older witch. There was a long-standing rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, which was quickly passed on to the younger students. However, as Minerva had gotten to know, not only Hermione, but also Severus, she could see how well they fit together. Trying to keep up with academic conversations between those two was a mental exercise for some of the older students, easily making them outcasts in their own year. However, the companionship they found in each other seemed to be enough.

Minerva winced as Severus stumbled across the dance floor with her daughter. He wasn't completely hopeless, but it was somewhat painful to watch. Though, the two students smiled widely at each other as they moved across the floor.

* * *

The song ended and Severus glided to a stop, bowing slightly to the young witch as he disengaged himself.

"Thank you for dancing with me, Professor," Hermione said earnestly, ignoring the baffled looks of students around her.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger," he said stiffly, before adding quietly, "thank you for asking."

The wizard swept away before she could respond. Smiling softly to herself, she couldn't help but think fondly of the dance with him, however brief. While, other students constantly complained about his class, she simply saw a protective instructor trying to keep students from getting hurt. True, he was a definitely biased towards his Slytherin, but as head of house, why wouldn't he be? In all honesty, Professor McGonagall was biased towards Gryffindor, she was just not a blatantly obvious about it.

Before any of her friends could accost her and question her sanity for dancing with the moody professor, Victor stepped in and swept her into another dance as the music started playing again.

Dark eyes watched from the edge of the room as the Bulgarian stepped back in. He fought the strong surge of jealousy back down, pushing his back against the wall. Severus' hands still tingled from where he had held her and he growled in irritation, fighting the part of himself that argued he shouldn't desire a student like that. His heart however insisted that he wasn't desiring a student, he was desiring his wife, the way she had been before their life had been turned upside down.

The night wore on and the crowd in the great hall dwindled as students headed back to their dormitories and couples snuck off to quieter parts of the castle. Krum led Hermione through two more songs before gently escorting her out of the hall on his arm. The front doors of the castle were still wide open, the icy gardens conjured for the event most likely hiding several couples. The two walked arm and arm across the lawn and down to the lake, where a section had been magically transformed into a small pond for ice skating, a few benches spread about. Earlier in the night, it had been bustling with activity, now, they were the only two out.

They sat down together on one of the benches, watching the Durmstrang ship's sails gently sway in the light breeze. Hermione shivered, provoking Victor to cast a warming charm around them. No words were spoken between the two as she snuggled in close to him. Wrapping an arm around her, Victor leaned in. With his other hand, he gently lifted her face before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

Hermione leaned in to the kiss, her body responding to his attentions. The feeling in the back of her mind awake with great urgency. It pushed at her, trying to break to the front of her thoughts, screaming at her. Wrong, it insisted, this is wrong! The witch brushes the feeling aside, assuming it was simply her loyalty to Harry against his competitor. She fought to shut her brain off and just feel, greeting access to her mouth as Krum sought entrance.

The kiss escalated to passionate rapidly, Victor wrapping her tightly in her arms. Before she knew what was happening, he had laid her down on the bench, his rough hand traveling up the outside of her thigh. She had been so distracted, trying to silence her brain and just enjoy herself, she hadn't realized she'd been trapped beneath his heavy weight.

Alarm bells started to go off and she tried to push against him, one hand against his chest, the other attempting to remove the hand from under her dress. Turning her head to the side, she broke the kiss, but he simply buried his face in her neck, kissing and nipping his way along the exposed skin.

"Victor," she said, breathing heavily, "this is too much."

However, he continued, growling against her skin and nipping at her earlobe. Wherever she pushed against him, he pressed harder, his hand pushing further up her thigh, fingers wrapping in the band of her panties. Roughly, he shoved a knee between her legs, pressing hard against her, grinding his prominent erection into her though.

"Victor, no, stop," she told him, her voice raising in panic as she pushed at him.

The older wizard simply pressed his mouth over hers again to silence her. She pressed her lips together and bucked beneath him. Her much smaller hand wrapped around his wrists, one roughly groping her breasts through the dress, the older still pulling at her underwear. The more she pushed away, the harder he fought back, and her heart raced with panic, knowing they were alone by the lake.

He pulled roughly, a loud rip in the eerily quiet night as the fabric of her underwear gave way and he pulled them from her body. His hand pushed between them, closer and closer to her core. Defiantly, she bit down on his lip as he continued to try silencing her with a kiss. Krum growled in rage, blood dripping from his torn lip. Hermione took the momentary freedom and screamed as loud as she could. A massive fist slammed into the left side of her face, shutting her up and dazing her. Taking advantage of the situation, he pulled at the front of her dress, tearing it mostly away from her body, while his other hand still pressed against her core, under the skirt.

One second, her brain was trying to disconnect itself from her body, hopelessness having set in, and then the next, the heavy weight and groping hands were gone.

Krum was thrown through the air with a silent spell from the dark shadow in the night. The Bulgarian wizard landed on the hard ice of the lake with a thud, not moving. Severus Snape watched the boy for a second, making sure he didn't get back up right away, before sweeping over to the young woman on the bench. Her dress was ripped down the front, a large bruise was already blooming on the left side of her face, blood dripping from her lip, and her eyes open, but unfocused.

Pulling his dress robes off, he gently knelt down and wrapped her him them, scooping her up into his arms. She seemed to come back to herself then, pushing, kicking, and clawing. Anything to get away from the definitely male body holding her.

"Easy Miss Granger," Severus said softly. "It's alright now. You're safe. I've got you."

His deep, silky voice soothed her and she settled, recognizing him. Her mind and body agreed with him. Safe, it assured her. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she sank into his chest, letting that feeling of safety envelope her. Breathing in deeply, she couldn't help but notice that he smelled of pine, woodsmoke, and leather. She could identify at least three potion ingredient scents lingering the background, and her mind worked on that puzzle, avoiding the trauma she had just endured. Severus carried her up to the hospital wing. By the time they had arrived, she determined that he had been brewing pepper-up potion earlier in the day.

Entrusting her safety to Poppy, he briefly explained the situation before storming out, headed to the Headmaster's office. The trip was short and did nothing to cool his temper.

"Victor Krum assaulted Miss Granger just now, and would have raped her had I not arrived in time," Severus explained briefly, before insisting. "I want aurors brought in and charges pressed."

"Calm down Severus," Albus said. "There is no need for all of that. What exactly happened?"

"I followed Mr. Krum and Miss Granger out to the pond. He tried to force himself on her, so I stepped in," Snape growled.

"And how do you know that she wasn't a willing participant?" Dumbledore asked.

 _Because my wife wouldn't cheat on me_ , he screamed inside his head. Rationally, he knew Hermione Granger and Hermione Snape were two different people still. He couldn't really blame Hermione Granger for experimenting with boys her age, but it still hurt him more than the cruciatus to sit there and watch her.

"Because willing participants don't say 'no', 'stop', and scream," Severus responded dryly. "Krum also punched her in the face to silence her."

Albus nodded thoughtfully, wandering over to the window and peering out into the darkness.

"I want his head, Albus," the younger wizard demanded.

"You know we can't do that, Severus. We need to maintain a good relationship with Durmstrang. They've produced more than a few dark wizards and we can't risk them choosing the wrong side." Dumbledore explained.

"So, you're just going to ignore it?" Severus asked, his outrage barely contained.

"No. I'll speak to Igor tomorrow. I'll ask that he insist Mr. Krum stay away from Miss Granger for the rest of their time here. In exchange, nothing will be said about the incident."

"So, you're just going to sweep it all under the rug," Severus sneered, "typical."

Dumbledore didn't get another word in before the angry young potion master stormed out of the office.

Clad in his formal dress slacks, long-sleeve while button up, and usual dragon hide boots he departed the castle, blood boiling. All he could see what his witch leaning in to the embrace of another man. After following the pair down to the lake, he had watched for a while. Snape had seen the foreign wizard leaning in and Hermione responding to the kiss. When he couldn't take it anymore, he had left, making his way back up to the castle, the panic in her voice and her scream drawing him back.

Hermione Granger was a fifteen-year-old witch. She was allowed to interact with boys, experience and experiment things of a sexual nature. It was expected. The girls in her dorm in Gryffindor tower probably talked about nothing but sex. He had no reason to blame her for that, since as far as she knew, she had always only been Hermione Granger. She didn't remember.

However, his anger insisted that he didn't have to be held to the saintly standards he had kept so far. She had chosen to leave him, so if she was with other men, why couldn't he be with other women?

Reaching the apparition point outside the gates of Hogwarts, he quickly spun on his heel, and with a loud pop, disappeared. Snape arrived just moments later in a dark alleyway, standing in a puddle of spilled beer. He glared down at his damn boots with disgust before noticing the pool of urine and pile of vomit nearby, and deciding it could have been worse. Emerging from the alley, he stepped onto a mostly empty street, lights only pouring from the doors of a few establishments, the closest of which sounded like it had a full-blown brawl happening. Sneering, he watched as a burly wizard was ejected from the front door. Knockturn Alley really was for the lowest of the low. That night, he felt he fit that description.

Snape stepped over the passed-out wizard and strode down the alley, passing mostly closed and empty businesses. It didn't take long to arrive at a more lit section, home to a few bars, but mostly brothels, the scantily clad women flocking to every single wizard or witch. Severus pushed his way into one of the businesses, shaking off the desperate grasps of most of the women. Once inside, he scanned the room, noticing many couples sat at tables, partaking in acts better suited for private locations.

A tall blonde by the bar caught his attention. Her light hair was cut short, pixie style. Despite short heels, she was almost as tall as he was, with clear blue eyes that pierced him when she caught his gaze. In short, she was the exact opposite of the witch he was trying to forget. Striding up to her, he looked her up and down, not overly caring that she wore little more than a bra and panties.

"How much?" Snape asked.

"15 galleons," she insisted.

Placing the coins on her hand, he held her grasp.

"Somewhere private?" He asked.

The witch nodded, tugging on the hand he still held, leading him up the stairs behind her. Once within one of the upstairs rooms, he pushed her down to her knees in front of him, leaning himself back against the door. The whore tucked the money away before unbuckling the leather belt at his waist, and slipping the buttons of his trousers loose. Pushing his pants and underwear down around his thighs, she pulled his limp cock free.

She arched a judgmental eyebrow up at the simmering wizard. Snarling, he grabbed at her hair, pushing her face into his crotch. She slipped his flaccid member between her lips, suctioning in and out, trying to bring it to life. Severus threw his head back against the door, trying to focus on the feeling of her lips on him. He tried to ignore the image of Hermione popping up in his head, her expression of hurt and disappointment. Growling he opened his eyes, looking down at the blond hair in his hand, thrusting his hips towards her. She sucked harder, her teeth grazing along his cock, her lips pulling, tugging, stoking, trying everything to coax it to life. No matter what she tried, he stayed completely limp.

"You've got to put some effort in too," she snickered.

Disgusted, he pushed her away, pulling his pants back up, throwing the door open, and storming out. He only stopped at the bar downstairs long enough to buy a bottle of fire whiskey. Once outside of the establishments, he apparated, dropping himself in the snow, outside of the castle gates. Growling in annoyance, he entered the grounds and made his way back across the lawn. By the time he reached the castle, the cold and the walk had sapped away the anger, leaving only disappointment, guilt, and loneliness.

Changing direction, he headed up the stairs, towards the seventh floor. Two corridors over from the fat lady, Severus knocked on a solid wooden door with a lion's head metal knocker. The door opened moments later, the older witch seeing the dejected look on his face and full bottle of alcohol in his hands, and ushered him in. Steering him to the couch, she sat him down and he soon found himself wrapped in a warm tartan blanket, with the fire blazing in front of him. Minerva sat in the chair by the sofa, silently waiting. She didn't try to take the bottle, she didn't speak. She waited for him to make the first move.

Sighing heavily, he set the bottle of fire whiskey on the table in front of the couch, then buried his face in his hands. The deep choking breaths gave away his sobs, but still Minerva just waited. When he lifted his face, the red rims and damp eyelids gave him away, but he was better composed.

"Hermione was attacked by Krum tonight," Severus told her.

"Poppy flooed and told me after she had gotten her taken care of and settled down," Minerva explained.

Severus nodded, his head working up and down as if he was chewing on his next words before spitting them out.

"Albus isn't going to do anything about it," he declared, spitting out the Headmaster's name hatefully.

"I know. I stormed up to his office as well after speaking with Poppy," Minerva growled. "Useless old goat. Playing politics has always been more important than people."

Severus snorted in agreement, ready to wring the old man's throat.

"Have you been drinking?" Minerva asked softly, eyeing the still sealed bottle on the table, not even the slightest bit of judgement in her tone, just concern.

"No," he answered softly, hanging his head. "That is all I bought. I intended to take it back to my chambers, but my feet led me here."

"That's good," Minerva assured him. "So, what happened, my boy? Something is bothering you."

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure where to start or if he even really wanted to talk about it with his mother-in-law. However, she'd been his pillar of strength in his lowest. His feet had led him to her for a reason he told himself.

"I had followed her and Krum out by the lake, to keep an eye on her since it was late. She reciprocated," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Everything looked consensual, so I headed back to the castle. I couldn't watch that."

Minerva nodded in understanding. She was a teenage girl, flattered by the attentions of an older boy and at the age where she would be curious. While, this situation with Hermione was painful for Minerva, it was excruciating for him. Realistically, Hermione wasn't being unfaithful to him, since she didn't remember him, but to him, it must feel that way. It was a tangled web that Albus had woven.

"I only turned back when I heard her tell him to stop and then scream. I could have ripped the boy to pieces when I saw him hit her," Severus growled. "Taking care of her was my first priority though."

Severus paused briefly.

"After talking to Albus, my anger at him morphed into anger at her. I know she doesn't remember, but all I could thinking was, how could she do that to me," Severus demanded. "I ended up in Knockturn Alley, at the Gilded Rose."

Minerva simply let him talk and open up to her, knowing that was what he needed. She knew what kind of establishment it was, but didn't feel the need to comment or judge.

"I was just so angry and it felt like the only way I could get back at her," Severus admitted sadly. "I ended up in a room with ... uhm ... one of the women. Nothing really happened. Despite my anger ... I, uh ... couldn't perform."

His face was red with embarrassment from talking about this with not only a colleague and the woman who taught him, but also the adoptive mother of the wife he had attempted to be unfaithful to. However, he knew she wouldn't judge him. If anything, she was the only one that would really understand. The hand she placed on his forearm and gentle squeeze assured him of that.

"So, I stormed out, bought the bottle on the way out and intended to drink myself to oblivion, but I couldn't," Snape explained the last of it quickly. "And here I am."

"I'm glad you came here instead," Minerva assured him, squeezing him arm gently once more. "I know you didn't really want to hurt her. Just like I know she'd never want to hurt you."

Severus nodded.

"I just don't know how she expected me to do this," he complained.

"Yes, well, it's not the first time we've realized this plan was not well thought through. As much as I love that girl, she has a lot to answer for when she comes back to us," Minerva grumbled. "Until then, I think we might just have to settle for fantasies of strangling Albus."

Severus chuckled.

Minerva vanished the bottle of alcohol with a flick of her wand and then snapped her fingers, summoning a Hogwarts elf.

"Tea for us please, Mipsy," Minerva requested, smiling gently at the elf.

With a pop, the little creature was gone, but only for an instant as she popped back in with a tray of tea. She set the tray upon the table, popping out of the room again. Minerva set to making tea for the two of them, handing Severus a cup fixed to his preferences.

"Now, a cup of tea to calm us down, then a good night of sleep," Minerva said. "We have more to deal with tomorrow."

* * *

 **Alright, hope you enjoyed!My apologies if the Hermione/Minerva bits are few and a little clunky. Mother/Daughter relationships are a little foreign to me, so hard to write, but hoping to have more in the future! Still plenty of Hermione/Snape though! My husband/editor accuses me of treating him a bit like a punching bag and I just shrug cause it's how the story comes to me.  
**

 **Also, thanks for the understanding with the writing time. I'm loving writing this story, but I'm also in love with my little boy and soaking up as much time as I can.**

 **The next chapter will continue with the 4th Year. Thing will likely get worse before they get better, but stick with me! As always, let me know what you think!**

 **JustReader - I fixed the mistakes in the age. She is roughly 15 years old, give or take a few months at this point. Thanks for catching that! As for the trace, we'll just have to see. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Sorry for taking so long on this chapter, but depression sucks. Some lemony stuff and some not so fun stuff, but here we go. Hopefully it won't be as long between this one and the next one, but no promises. More Year 4 fun next chapter, since this one got away from me.  
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Chapter 9 – The Second Challenge

 **December 28, 1975**

Hermione laid partially on top of Severus in her bed, legs intertwined, as she planted gentle kisses along his jaw line. Severus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him as he captured her lips in a light kiss. She teased his mouth open with short, barely there swipes of her tongue against the seam of his lips before delving in with unrestrained passion.

He groaned him appreciation before shifting uncomfortably below her, his now full-fledged erection straining painfully against his jeans. She shifted her position, sliding even more on top of him as she ground her own jean clad center against him. Hermione slipped her hands between them, quickly unbuckling his belt and then starting on his jeans.

Snape broke the kiss, breathing heavily, as he stilled her hands with his own. She looked up at him with large amber eyes, chewing nervously on her kiss swollen and reddened bottom lip. His member strained even more against its confinements and he internally groaned.

"Your mum is just down the hall, Hermione," he reminded her gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Muffliato," she said, flicking her wand at the door, a mischievous smirk on her face.

She added a locking spell as well before setting her wand back down, intending to resume her exploration.

Snape panicked, forcing his hands between them to buckle his belt as he looked around wildly, as if expecting an owl to burst through the window.

"Calm down," Hermione insisted.

"You aren't allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts yet! The trace," Severus insisted.

"One of the perks of being from the future is that apparently, the Ministry doesn't have a record of me. Therefore, no trace," Hermione said with a shrug, the truth about her had been a long conversation at the beginning of the school year.

Sliding off of him, she sat up cross legged on the bed, watching him with an amused expression on her face. Despite their former closeness and the still noticeable bulge in his jeans, she knew he would have questions. Until his questions were answered, they wouldn't get back to where they were, so she patiently waited for him to ask. It was one of the things she loved about him.

"When did you find this out?" He asked, wildly curious.

"First year," she told him. "Mum brought me here for Christmas and I spent a lot of time in the library trying to get home. When I cast a spell here and nothing happened, I started researching the trace. It triggers and registers with the Ministry with a witch or wizard is chosen by their wand. The magical signature is large enough and distinct enough. Since my wand matched to me in the future, no trace."

Severus had sat up as well, legs spread out in front of him as he leaned against the headboard. He was thoroughly captivated as she shared this bit of knowledge with him.

"How do they track accidental magic in children?" He asked, having never really looked in to it. "Especially in cases where muggles are concerned?"

"Accidental magic is also particularly potent, even the mildest of spells. There are spells designed to pick up these signatures and target the location. It also will list a number of muggle witnesses. The Ministry keeps track of magical children this way, so that every instance of accidental magic isn't an emergency."

"Geeze, that seems really invasive," Severus muttered.

"All for the statute of secrecy," she muttered, clearly annoyed.

After a few minutes of silence, Severus asked, "Were you really trying to leave?"

She sighed and leaned in to him, pulling his arms around herself and snuggling up against his chest.

"I missed my real mum and dad," she admitted. "Dumbledore said he would look for a way to get me back, but doubted he would find anything because they weren't entirely sure what kind of magic transported me to this time in the first place. Still, I wanted to try, so I searched the library at Hogwarts. I had stopped after the first month, but coming here and having a whole new library to search, sparked a need to try again."

"I would have missed you," Severus admitted. "If you'd left. We weren't close then because I was so damn suspicious, but I would have missed you."

"You're a huge part of the reason I stopped looking and I came to terms with it," Hermione confided in him.

Gently, he lifted her head, before bringing his lips down to meet hers again. The chaste, healing kiss, quickly turned into a heated one, with Hermione on her knees and turned into his body, leaning against him. Breaking away from her, he kissed her forehead, panting softly.

"Now, where were we?" He smirked.

"Oh, I think somewhere around here," she observed innocently, sitting back onto her heels, hands at work.

She unbuckled his belt and then popped the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. As the two sides of denim spread apart, his cock surged forward within his underwear, grateful for the freedom. Holding on to the belt loops, she tugged down gently and he lifted his hips obediently, helping her remove the item of clothing. Moving with the jeans, she slid down his body, pushing the pants off, past his already bare feet, before sliding back up to him, purposely rubbing her chest and grinding her hips into his erection.

Straddling him, she leaned in to kiss him, working her hands up under his shirt and pushing it up. They broke the kiss only long enough for her to pull the garment over his head, tossing it across the room. Her hands splayed themselves across the smooth expanse of his bare chest as their tongues fought for dominance.

Severus, allowed his hands to stray from her hips, drifting up under her shirt. His long fingers splayed across her warm stomach, making her blood feel like it was boiling wherever they touched. Agonizingly slow, his hands crept up her torso, his fingers played across every available inch of skin. Her shirt bunched up around his wrists as they trekked upwards. When he finally reached her lace covered breasts, she was panting too hard to keep up the kiss. With his mouth free, he leaned into her neck, kissing, licking, and nibbling as his fingers traced her rapidly hardening nubs through the fabric.

He continued to move slowly, trying her patience. She reached down and grabbed the hem of her tee shirt, yanking it over her head, and smacking him in the face accidently as she went. Tossing it off to the side, she panted soft kisses across his jokingly affronted face, before tangling her hands in his long hair and pulling his face down to her chest. He chuckled softly before teasing her nipples through the lace with his tongue. She threw back her head and moaned while grinding against his hard member, causing Severus to groan against her chest. His hands skimmed across her back, finding the bra clasp and quickly unhooking it. Hermione helped drag the straps down her arms, discarding it among the rest of their scattered clothes.

Catching her unaware, Severus flipped their positions, twisting her flat on her back on the bed, with him hovering over her. Gathering one breast in his hand, his fingers skated over the nipple, while he descended on the other breast with his mouth. Sucking her breast into his mouth, he flicked his tongue back and forth over the nipple, causing her to thrash and thrust beneath him. Switching sides, he gave the other breast the same treatment before grinning up at her between the mounds of flesh.

"You, my dear, have entirely too much clothing on," Severus teased.

He spoke slowly, enunciation the words, and using the deep, smooth tone, that his voice had evolved into over the summer, to his advantage. Snape knew that his voice drove her wild, especially when they were fooling around, even if she wouldn't admit it.

Slowly, he kissed, nipped, and tongued his way down her body. He nipped and sucked at the bottom of her rib cage, soothing the slight sting with his tongue. Grinning to himself, he veered away from her belly button, knowing her ticklish spots, instead placing wet kisses along one side, and then the other, meeting the waistband of her jeans on both sides. His fingers worked to unbutton her jeans, while his mouth sucked a little red mark into the skin of her right hip. She had reached down to lower the zip, but he had gently batted her hands away.

"Patience, sweetheart," he muttered, into the skin beneath the now open button.

She shivered, clasping her hands behind her head to keep them out of trouble. However, she couldn't help that he hips bucked up into his face. He chuckled, that deep rumble that made her melt for him. There had been nothing wrong with his voice before, it had just been boyish, with the occasional cracking or squeaking as it was changing. Now, his voice was a deep, silky, smooth baritone, that sent chills down her spine and caused frequent wet spots on her underwear. He had a knack for making the most mundane things sound suggestive.

Slowly, his tongue snaked out, first simply licking his lips, only ghosting across her skin. Then it descended, tracing the small intention on her skin from the button before following the ever so slowly exposed trail down as he slid the zip down, one tine, at a time. She groaned and shivered, and moaned beneath him. His lips curled in a satisfied smirk, not only at the sounds she made, but the smell of her arousal, growing stronger as he got closer. Gently, he pulled the tight jeans down her thighs, kissing his way along the inner leg.

While he was occupied with her jeans, she reached down and shoved her panties down her legs as well. Chuckling softly, he looked up at her with an amused grin.

"Impatient, love?" Severus inquired, as if he didn't already know.

"I need to come, Severus. Please," Hermione whimpered.

Her body was on fire, her nerves tingling, and her pussy ached and throbbed almost painfully. Severus loved it when he wound her up so tight, she felt like she was going to burst, as it made her release explosive. He loved how much she wanted him.

Kissing his way back up her legs, he teased the sensitive inner thigh with his tongue as he positioned himself comfortably between her legs. With a slight grimace, he adjusted his throbbing length, assuring it that he'd take care of the matter soon. With his focus back on the woman laid out before him, he blew a stream of air across her heated core, loving the way she shivered at the slightest provocation.

Leaning in, he flattened this tongue, sliding it from her opening, to her clit, and back down, entering her with the organ. She moaned and bucked and shivered, as he lapped at her sex, enjoying the smell and the taste of his witch. It wasn't long before she was close, rapidly approaching her climax. She ground her pussy into his face as he focuses in on her clit, his tongue alternating between long, flat, licks, and sharp thrusts. She wrapped her hands in his long, black hair and rode his face.

"Oh gods! Oh yes! That's it, Severus, that's ..." Hermione moaned.

She encouraging him with her words until she tipped over the edge, reduced to incoherent muttering and moaning as she rode out her orgasm, legs clamps around his head. He gently kissed and licked her pussy, lapping up her juices, as she came down. When her legs relaxed, he climbed up her body, planting kisses on the way, as he settled beside her, his head on her chest.

While holding her, he slipped his hand into his boxers, stroking his eager cock, intending to fulfil his promise it give it some attention. Her hand covered his, stilling his movements, and he looked up at her.

"I want to feel you inside of me, Severus," she insisted, amber eyes watching him intently.

"Are you sure?" He asked, propping himself up to look down at her. Reminding her earnestly, "We can keep waiting. I don't mind. Really."

"I want you. Please," she begged.

His throat was dry, so he just nodded, pushing his boxers down his legs and kicking them off. Pre-cum smeared across her leg as his cock practically bounced with excitement. Positioning himself over her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, while he lined himself up with her core. Shaking the hair out of his face, he looked into her eyes, seeking reassurance and she understood, nodding her permission while chewing lightly on her bottom lip. As gently as he could, but in one motion, he thrust all the way into her passage. She gasped out in surprise and pain, but he leaned in, swallowing her cries in a passionate kiss, waiting painful still to feel her relax around him. The grip on his cock was intense and the heat overwhelming. His body wanted to pull out and drive into her again and again, so it took all his control and a little occlumency to wait for her, listening to the advice from an older Slytherin about first times.

Slowly, the pain eased away and she started to relax around him. It wasn't until she started moving against him that he gave himself permission to move. Slowly, he pulled out most of the way, before sliding all the way back in. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at her, a smile on his face gentling the intensity of his dark gaze. With one thumb, he wiped away the tears that had dripped down her face, continuing to watch her for signs. As her body reacted to his more and more, he picked up speed. It wasn't long before his own orgasm pulled him over the edge, his seed spilling within her. What had felt like a lifetime, connected in that way, had only been a couple of minutes.

Pulling out, he wrapped her in his arms, with her head on his chest, as he dragged the blanket over them.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

"I'm pretty sure I need to be the one thanking you," he chuckled softly.

Laughing with him, she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"I love you, Severus," she said.

"I love you too, Hermione," he answered.

Both were sound asleep moments later, wrapped in each other's arms. A few hours later, they were dressed again, snuggling together on her bed with books when Minerva knocked at the door.

"Yes, mum?" Hermione asked, getting up to pull the door open.

"These are for you," Minerva said, placing two books in the young girl's hands.

The top book was titled Wards of All Sorts, and had a bookmark in it, that when she opened to it, was marking the chapter titled Silencing Wards & Spells. A red tint crept onto her face, replaced by a full blush as she flipped to the second book, reading the title: Contraceptive Potions, Spells, Tips, and Tricks - Wizarding and Muggle Methods.

"While it may be useful in a crowded classroom or the great hall, muffileto isn't all that subtle in a quiet house, my dear," Minerva remarked, amused at the horrified expression on her daughter's face.

Since they had already had the discussion about the birds and the bees, the older witch left it at that, closing the door behind her and chuckling to herself. Hermione returned to the bed with the books in hand. Curiosity got the better of him, and Severus pulled her back into his embrace, looking at the titles of the books.

Shrugging, he pulled the book on contraception from her hands, and started at the beginning. He knew that Hermione had been on the basic potion that Madam Pomfrey stocked, for a while now, but options didn't hurt. Hermione rolled his eyes at the short-lived humiliation of being caught by her mother before settling in next to him with her own book.

* * *

 **December 17, 1994**

Severus groaned groggily, the pleasant dream fading away, as he started to wake. Rolling over in the bed, he reached out his hand to the spot next to him, shocked awake by the cold, emptiness that greeted him.

Slowly, the memories penetrated his sleep addled mind. He remembered why his wife's side of the bed was empty and what was worse, he'd remembered what he had done the previous night. As quickly as he could, he lunged for the edge of the bed, purging the contents of his stomach on the cold dungeon floor. Groaning, he laid his forehead against the edge of the bed, blindly reaching around the bedside table for his wand. Upon recovering the smooth, well-worn wood, he quickly vanished the puddle of puke.

Climbing from the bed, he entered his bathroom, feeling dirty and disgusted with himself. Reaching into the shower, he turned the handle to start the water flow, before stepping over to the toilet to relieve himself while the water warmed.

He thanked magic for small graces. Growing up, in his family home, it had taken forever for the water to warm and if anyone flushed a toilet or turned on the tap, that time doubled. That wasn't the case with the magical plumbing of the castle.

Hissing, he stepped under the scalding spray of the shower. It was much hotter than he would normally tolerate, but for the purpose of burning and scrubbing away his skin, it was perfect. Grabbing a cloth and excessive amounts of soap, he proceeded to scrub his cock, long after it was raw and painful. He wanted to scrub off every trace of the woman, even to the point of considering obliviation. However, he wouldn't go that far. Severus needed to remember how stupid and weak he had been to make sure it didn't happen again.

The extreme heat mingled with his self-loathing resulted in staggering dizziness and another bout of vomiting. Leaning heavily against the wall, he heaved up several rounds of bile, his throat raw and burning like the rest of him by the time he was done. Shutting off the tap, he wrapped himself in a towel and staggered back into the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed.

The cool air of the dungeon against his raw skin had felt wonderful, driving away the dizziness. He waited just a few moments for the room to stop spinning before rising to his feet and getting ready. A quick spell dried his long hair, as he pulled his usual attire from the wardrobe. As he fastened the last of the many tiny buttons on his frock coat, he departed his rooms, sweeping his long, black teaching robes over him as he did so.

He wanted to go to the infirmary, to see her and make sure that she was alright, to hold her close to him and never let her go again. However, that was far from appropriate given his position as teacher and spy and the fact that she still didn't remember him. The thought of storming out to Karkaroff's blasted boat and tearing that boy limb from limb crossed his mind, but he could hear his wife scolding him in his mind, reminding him to act logically, not emotionally. So, his footsteps led him to Minerva's office. It was we past breakfast at that point, so he knew she would be there working on getting caught up. Tentatively, he knocked on the sturdy wood door.

"Enter," Minerva answered.

Slowly, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him, before crossing the room and collapsing into one of the chairs in front of her desk. He was grateful that the slightly cushioned chairs were much more comfortable than the guest chairs in his office, that were all hard wood and sharp edged, in order to make his guests uncomfortable and put them on edge.

"You look like hell, Severus," she noted lightly, her head still down as her quill traversed the paper in front of her.

"Good morning to you too," he grumbled. "How is she?"

Minerva knew exactly who he was talking about. She waited a moment before answering, knowing this conversation would need her full attention. She finished grading the sixth-year essay in front of her before pushing the stack off to the side. Giving him her full attention, she considered he answer.

"She's doing alright under the circumstances. Poppy healed up the couple of bruises last night and gave her a calming draught and some dreamless sleep. This morning, Hermione insisted on flooing to St. Mungo's to talk to one of the counselors there. When I met up with her after to take her to the Burrow, we talked a little bit. She's going to continue seeing the counselor through the holiday and may need to make some trips once she's back here. I told her that we would accommodate that. I also had to tell her about Dumbledore's decision regarding Krum. I think she already knew nothing would be done, but she just shrugged me off when I tried to discuss it more with her. I hope the councilors can help her. She did at least seem better than she had think morning before she went to Mungo's," Minerva informed him, a hint of pain in her voice.

Years before, at this age, Hermione would have confided in Minerva, as her adoptive mother. They had been incredibly close with few secrets between them. Now, McGonagall was just her head of house. Hermione respected and admired her, but it wasn't the same as the bond between a mother and a daughter. The older witches heart ached to see her girl going through this without her, and mostly alone. Molly was a great parent, but Hermione didn't take to her like she had with Minerva. The relationship with Molly was more of a loving aunt to Hermione, than any real mother figure.

Severus dropped his head into his hands and growled, "She never should have been in that position in the first place. Dumbledore and his blasted mission. I know as well as he does that the Dark Lord is going to come back and we choose to battle that by sending one of our most powerful witches back to puberty!"

"Easy boy," Minerva said, walking around her desk to sit beside him, rubbing his back gently. "I agree that the old man has lost his mind, but what is done is done. All we can hope for is that we can hold out until her memory returns."

Severus sighed and looked up at her with hints of tears in his eyes. She gently brushed his hair back from his face.

"All we need to do is survive and wait. We both know war is coming. Having out Hermione back will make that easier to deal with, but things will still be dangerous," Minerva said.

Snape pulled the sleeve of his frock coat back, revealing the darker, and still darkening mark. "I fear that things will get more dangerous sooner than we'd like."

"Good will prevail," she assured him, a wicked gleam entering her eye. "And when it does, we will show Albus as bit of the hurt he's put us through in the interim."

The dark wizard looked closely at the older witch. He's seen her break down her fair share over the years, but she had always been available to help and deal with him. Looking at her now, she looked older than her years, her skin more weathered and wrinkled, the laugh lines he'd know from years ago faded, and dark circles around her eyes. Her eyes held the truth of her pain, full of loss. The loss of her natural born child, the loss of her husband, and now the loss of her adoptive daughter. Somehow, he knew that she would hold him up as much as he needed, not willing to lose him as well. Silently, Severus wondered if she had the strength to survive the coming war.

* * *

 **January 23, 1995**

Breaking the surface of water broke the spell placed upon her, and Hermione gasped in a great mouth full of air, trying to clear her lungs of the oddly empty sensation the spell had caused. Treading water out of instinct, her mind was still so fogged by the spell, that she didn't make any motion until Harry latched on to her arm and pulled her towards the large platforms in the water. She didn't notice that he was dragging another, much younger girl along with them, only able to focus on the tower drawing ever closer.

They reached the ladders and the young girl went up first. Since she didn't automatically move toward the ladder, Harry grabbed her arm and pushed her upward. Many helping hands reached down and grabbed handfuls of her soaked coat to help pull her up. Her brain panicked at so many unknown hands holding her and she froze in place, but no one seemed to notice as the quickly hauled her out of the water.

Several thick, warm blankets were immediately bundled around her, shocking her out of her stupor. She looked up and found Professor Snape standing over her, tucking the blanket into her shivering hands. She smiled carefully up at him, causing his frown to deepen, but she a feeling of safety wrapped around her, just as tight and comforting as the blankets. Her mind was finally starting to clear, leaving her feeling as if she's taken a double dose of dreamless sleep. Severus flicked his wand and she felt the magic of his spell wrap around her, drying her clothing for, so she wasn't still dripping wet in the cold Scottish weather.

She looked up again to thank him, but the looming black shape was gone, disappeared back to Dumbledore's side, as she was pulled into Harry's wet embrace. He was also wrapped in several blankets, but still dripping. Her mind was pulled away from the old show of niceties shown by Professor Snape as Dumbledore's voice could be heard announcing the winners.

"In first place, is Mr. Diggory, who retrieved his hostage and returned the fasted. Mr. Krum returned next. However, we have been informed that Mr. Potter was first to arrive and secure his hostage, but choose to wait and make sure all of the others were collected, even bringing back the young Miss. Delacour, whose older sister was disqualified. So, we are awarding Mr. Potter second place, leaving Mr. Krum in third."

The Durmstrang students growled loudly when their champion had been regulated to third place even though he had finished before Harry. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the group, easily spotting Krum among the students. His dark eyes latched on to hers and he just smirked at her, his eyes traveling slowly up and down her body as he knew she was watching.

Hermione froze, her mind snapping back to that night, feeling helpless as she struggled beneath his much larger frame. All of her studying and researching had not helped her. Even the bit of muggle martial arts she had picked up in St. Mungo's hadn't helped in the slightest as he had tried to force himself on her. It was only her luck that Professor Snape had heard her struggling and screaming and swooped in to save the day. Her body trembled as she recalled that night.

Harry stumbled into her slightly, and she jumped, before turning to see that he had only been jokingly shoved by Ron. Shaken, she turned back to her friends, trying to clear her mind and steady her breathing.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, watching her closely.

With a lightness she didn't feel, she joked, "Of course not! Look at me, I'm freezing out here! I can't believe you were willing to let me drown, taking so long! You and your savior complex."

"Yeah, Mr. Moral Fiber," Ron scoffed.

Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. His embrace didn't have the same suddenly calming effect of Professor Snape, but she felt safe in the arms of the boy who was like a brother to her. She ruffled his hair playfully and let him wrap an arm behind her back to lead her to the boats that took them back to the shore of the great lake.

It was just about lunch time as they reached the school, many of the students going directly into the great hall. She hung back from the boys. Her heart was still pounding and the press of bodies on the boat and the pathways back to the castle had made her feel anxious and jumpy. Not really wanting to be surrounded by people any longer and not really hungry, she tried to make a quick escape.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry hollered, "you coming?"

"Nah, I'm not really hungry. Dumbledore gave us a nutrition portion before casting the stasis spell, since we missed a few meals. I think I'm going to hit the library and get some work done," she lied to the boys.

"Spent all morning in the black lake, and what is the first thing she does? Hits the library!" Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Hermione just smiled weakly at the boys, who shrugged and entered the hall, joining the Gryffindor table. She watched for a moment through the doors as the rest of the house surrounded and congratulated Harry, celebrating his success.

Sadly, she turned and walked up the stairs, feeling out of place and more uncomfortable than ever. Her feet led her up into the castle and to the hospital wing. She gently pushed open the door and let herself in, the squeak of her sneakers echoed in the empty chamber. A moment later, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office at the sound. The old mediwitch had a sad, knowing smile on her face, and waited for the younger woman to speak.

"Can I go on through?" Hermione asked quietly, tilting her head in the direction of the large hearth in the room.

"Of course, dear," Poppy assured her. "Do you need anything from me before you go?"

"No thank you. I'm alright," Hermione responded, offering a smile that didn't quite reach her face.

With nothing else to say, the young witch turned and strode across the room to the fireplace. Grabbing some floo powder from the container on the mantle, she stepped in and threw the powder down, calling out her location.

"St Mungo's."

Wrapped up in the green flames, she felt comfortably warm after her dip in the Black Lake. The trip was short however, as she stepped expertly out into the lobby at St Mungo's a moment later. She felt the familiar sweep of the hospitals cleaning spell, sucking the soot from her person, before she stepped away from the fireplace.

Hermione waved softly at the older woman at the front desk as she walked past her and toward the lift without stopping. The staff were familiar with her at that point. Taking the lift down three floors, she stepped out into a t-intersection. On her left, was the addiction treatment ward, that she had spent a bit of time in the previous summer. On her right, was the counseling and mental health treatment center. It was a small operation, as very few people in the wizarding world were willing to seek help for those sorts of problems, still mostly ashamed.

However, with her muggle background, Hermione felt no shame as she stepped into the small waiting room. The young witch at the desk smiled at her gently.

"I'll let her know that you are hear," she said.

A moment later, a yellow paper airplane too flight, drifting towards the offices in the back. Five minutes later, Hermione's counselor appeared at the end of the hallway. Meredith Walton, was a tall, muggle born witch in her mid-forties, with curly red hair and kind green eyes.

"Come on back, Hermione," she beckoned from the hall.

Meredith led the younger witch through the familiar maze to her office. Ushering Hermione inside, the older witch followed, closing the door behind her. Taking a seat in her normal chair, she noticed Hermione standing at the window. As they were underground, the window merely looked out at the moderately sized gym one floor down where patients received physical therapy and other activity related therapies. Hermione didn't seem to be watching anything specifically, mostly just staring out to space, most likely organizing her thoughts.

"Would you like to take a seat?" Meredith asked gently.

Hermione turned from the window, her eyes at first, still far away, but they quickly refocused. Striding across the room, the young woman took a seat on the mid-sized cream couch. Perched on the edge, she leaned into her knees, her hands fidgeting in front of her.

"So, what's going on?"

"Today was the second task for the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Hermione explained softly.

Meredith simply nodded her head, having kept up with the tournament in the Daily Prophet and with her patient. She remembered with amusement that the young, bushy haired witch had almost blown a gasket at some of Rita Skeeter's articles.

"The second task was for each of the champions to retrieve their most important person from the mermaid settlement deep within the Black Lake," Hermione continued to explain, more comfortable with the facts for the moment. "So, Dumbledore rounded us up last night, gave us a nutrition potion and dreamless sleep before putting each of us under a stasis spell and depositing us in the lake at some point."

"So, which champion were you the most important person for?" The counselor asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to prompt Hermione into digging deeper.

"Harry, of course. Silly boy arrived at the captives first, but waited to make sure everyone else was retrieved. Fleur had been disqualified, so when she didn't show up for her hostage, Harry insisted on saving us both," Hermione explained, a fond smile on her face.

"Is that what is bothering you?"

"No," Hermione admitted. "The mixture of potions and stasis spell made me feel really weird for a while after they broke. I wasn't able to concentrated on getting out of the lake and many people had grabbed onto my jacket and pulled me out."

Meredith just sat quietly while Hermione paused, waiting for her to continue on her own.

"It made me panic and I felt uncomfortable being that out of it and crowded by people I didn't immediately recognize," Hermione explained. "Once we were out of the water, we were each wrapped in blankets. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt comfortable and safe. I looked up to find Professor Snape tucking the blankets around me. He also spelled my clothes dry, which was nice, but odd since the rest of the champions and captives still had wet clothes."

She paused for a moment.

"He left and Harry pulled me close. It was a much different feeling, but I still felt comfortable with him. When they announced the winner, I looked over at the Durmstrang group and saw Victor staring at me. It was the first time I'd really seen him since the incident and he's look made my skin crawl. I felt panicked again, wanting to run and get away."

"Why does Victor make you feel that way, when you know he's been forbidden from approaching you again?" Meredith asked.

"It reminds me of what happened. It makes me feel weak and defenseless. Being the brightest witch of my age and learning some muggle self-defense did nothing," Hermione scoffed. "He was just so much bigger and stronger, I couldn't budge him and any time I tried to object or fight back, he easily disabled me. I remember feeling dazed a majority of the time."

"Unfortunately, at your age, you aren't learning to defend yourself against attackers magically or physically. It's not a fault within you, but rather a fault of the system. I might help you to feel better and more comfortable again to find someone to teach you more advanced magic, combined with physical defense. We both know you're smart enough and powerful enough to learn it," Meredith suggested. "Is there someone at Hogwarts who could help you?"

Hermione sat quietly and thought about it for a moment. The first thing that came to mind was Snape soundly beating Lockhart at the Dueling Club in second year. She smiled at the memory now, even though at the time she'd been girlishly ensnared by Lockhart's looks.

"Professor Snape would probably be able to. Sure, he teaches potions, but it's no secret that he wants the defense position. However, he's Head of Slytherin House and had made it no secret he despises myself and my friends. I doubt he'd be willing to help," Hermione offered, clearly disappointed.

"If he dislikes you so much, then why have you several times said that he makes you feel safe and comfortable when he is around?" Meredith asked.

"I don't really know. I guess he's saved Harry, Ron, and me often enough. And he saved me from Victor. Every time I really think about it though, I feel blocked, like I'm hitting a wall inside my head," Hermione attempted to explain.

"Well, then how do you feel about Professor Snape?"

"I respect him. He's incredibly smart and I admire that. He's saved me several times, so I feel grateful. Yeah, he can be mean, cruel, and hurtful sometimes, but he doesn't exactly have things easy, with losing his wife a few years ago," Hermione explained. "The boys constantly disrespect him and complain about him and it annoys me."

"Well, maybe you should ask him about giving you extra lessons and see how that goes. If that doesn't work out, we might be able to find someone here that has some time, but getting help from someone at Hogwarts will be much more convenient," Meredith explained. "Now, how do you feel about being Harry's most important person?"

"Eh, I consider him a brother, like I do the Weasleys," Hermione shrugged.

"And do you think he considers you to be like a sister to him?" She asked.

"I guess. We're best friends: me, him, and Ron," the young witch answered. "I've never asked him."

"But if you are all best friends, then why you over Mr. Weasley?" Meredith inquired.

"I guess because I understand him a bit better. We both lost our families and were pretty much adopted by the Weasleys," Hermione explained.

"And what if his feelings for you are more than that of a brother?" Meredith pushed.

Hermione sat quietly for a moment, her exterior giving off the same calm, sadness. However, internally she was panicking. Did Harry like her that way? She wasn't sure how to handle that possibility.

"Hermione," her counselor gently pushed again.

"I don't know," the young girl whispered, her voice catching with fear. "I'm not ready for anyone to feel that way about me, much less me feel that way about someone. I still have nightmares of Victor on top of me, being unable to move or fight back or scream. I don't know how to feel like that for someone again and not be afraid of being taken advantage of.

"It will come with time," Meredith assured her. "You've lived through more than any fifteen-year-old should have to. Give yourself time. Learning how to protect yourself better should help, so make sure you pursue that."

"And if Harry does approach me?" Hermione whispered.

"If it's before you are ready to consider that kind of relationship again, then you tell him what you told me. If he's your friend, like you say, he'll understand. If you are ready, don't double guess yourself."

Hermione sat quietly for a time, considering everything that had been discussed. Meredith let her sit for a bit before looking up at the clock on the wall.

"You should get back to Hogwarts," Meredith encouraged her. "I know it's Saturday, but they'll start to be missing you by now. Know though, that you are still welcome whenever you need."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Leaving back the way she came, Hermione navigated the halls on autopilot. When she arrived at the floo, she was still trying to figure out how to work up the courage to ask Professor Snape for lessons, when the green flames engulfed her.

* * *

 **February 2, 1995**

A harsh knock at his office door interrupted Severus Snape in his attempts to grade fifth year essays. Laying his quill down on the table, he pushed the stack away from him before calling out for his guest.

"Enter."

The heavy wooden wood was pulled open by Minerva McGonagall, though she didn't enter right away. She held the door open and looked sternly down at a student that was taking their time entering the room. Severus sighed heavily and wondered what one of his snakes had done now. However, it was shocking to see Hermione emerge from behind the wall and enter the office with the Head of Gryffindor House on her heels.

"Good evening Severus," Minerva said, taking a seat on one of the chairs before his desk, gesturing for Hermione to do the same.

"Good evening Minerva. Miss Granger. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Severus drawled, watching the young witch fidget in her seat.

"Miss Granger has brought it to my attention that her councilor at St. Mungo's suggested instruction in more advanced defensive and offensive spells, along with more physical fighting styles," Minerva explained.

"And what of Professor Moody?" Snape asked, adding sarcastically, "After all, he is the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."

"Don't be foolish, Severus. We both know Alastor wasn't much for muggle fighting before he lost his leg," Minerva joked. "Besides, Miss Granger asked about you personally."

In the uncomfortable seat beside the older witch, Hermione Granger fidgeted and cringed at her Professor's last statement. Snape smirked and suppressed the chuckle that would have normally escaped in present company.

"And why Miss Granger, did you request me?"

She looked up at him then, and he had to watch his features, as he wasn't expecting her too be so bold. For a brief second, he had seen his wife staring back at him, not the student.

"For starters, Professor Moody makes me uncomfortable. However, when my councilor suggested it, you were the first person that came to mind," Hermione explained.

"And why did you think of me first?" Snape questioned, genuinely curious.

"Because the first thing I thought of was you soundly beating, Lockhart, in my second year," she told him, with a broad grin.

Beside her, Minerva laughed heartily. Severus grinned, but resisted laughing at the reminder of that day.

"To be fair, he wasn't much of a challenge," Severus shrugged. "Though, if you are insistent that I tutor you, I can speak with Professor ..."

Minerva edged in and interrupted him quickly, "We both know you know need her Head of House's approval before agreeing to extra lessons and since I'm here, I give it."

"Well then, we will meet Tuesday and Thursday nights after dinner, and if anyone asks, you are taking Advanced Potions classes," Severus instructed her.

"Thank you very much, Professor Snape," Hermione voiced her appreciation.

Quickly, she stood, waiting momentarily for him to dismiss her with a wave of his hand before darting out into the hall. Minerva was just about to get out of her seat and depart when he waved his hand again and the door slammed shut.

"Just what are you playing at, you meddling old tabby?" Severus hissed.

"I am trying to make sure my daughter is taken care of and taught properly. You weren't the only one shaken up and murderous after her attack," McGonagall asserted firmly. "We both know that Remus is the only qualified Defense instructor we've had for years. Quirrell and Lockhart were jokes and Alastor is too far around the bend."

"While I appreciate your vote of confidence, you could have at least let me pretend to think about it! By Merlin, classes full of other students are hard enough. How am I supposed to manage one on one with her?" Snape moaned, moments from beating his head against the desk.

"I'm sure you'll manage. And you never know, maybe spending time with you will dislodge those memories early," Minerva responded.

"Ah ha! I knew you were meddling!" Severus declared triumphantly.

"Meddling or not, at least you'll have a sparring partner again for a time. Filius has managed to beat you in the teacher dueling tournament the last few years. I've had to stop betting on you for fear of losing all of my savings," she chuckled.

"Bah, we both know you always bet on your girl anyway," Severus sneered.

"Yes, but you were always an easy second place bet," she teased.

Snape just sighed, dropping his head to the palms of his hands as the memories surfaced. Minerva stood from her seat and walked around his desk, patting him gently on his back.

"Just hang in there, my boy. We'll get her back," Minerva assured him.

She gripped his shoulder gently before taking her leave, shutting the door behind her. He knew that she kept reassuring him for both of their sake.

* * *

Minerva returned to her rooms, settling down into the tartan chair by the fireplace. The flames roared in the heart, heating up her aching old joints. The old witch sighed, feeling as if she'd aged a decade for every year since Hermione had been de-aged.

Even when Hermione and Severus had joined the Order right out of Hogwarts she hadn't stressed this much. The two years between Severus taking the Dark Mark and the disappearance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been almost this bad, though thankfully short.

The sulky Slytherin had been a part of her family for almost as long as Hermione. It hadn't taken their marriage for her to consider him a son. However, she still fondly remembered finding out that he would be officially joining the family.

* * *

 **January 1978**

"Mum," Hermione shrieked as she burst through the door to her chambers.

"Hermione, dear, we've talk about you bursting in here while students are in the castle," Minerva scolded her gently. "Now, what's got you all excited this time?"

"He finally proposed," the younger witch exclaimed, coming around her mother's chair and plopping down by her feet, in front of the fire.

Took him long enough, Minerva thought wryly as she remembered the scrawny young man approaching her over three months before, asking for her permission to marry Hermione. Not that he needed her permission, Merlin knew that girl was going to do what she wanted, but it was the kind of gesture that both Hermione, and herself would appreciate.

"Well, let's see the ring dear," Minerva mentioned. "It's not about the size of the gems, but about the thought put into it."

Hermione offered her left hand for her mother to observe the small ring and two rectangular gems. Nodding in approval, she grasped her daughter's hand in her own.

"Your young man has good tastes, for a Slytherin," Minerva declared, chuckling as Hermione nudged her gently. "But, then again, there was never any doubt about that at least, as he chose you."

Hemione blushed before getting up and making her way to the small kitchen attached to her mother's chambers to make tea. When she returned, she settled down on the couch besides her mother's chair, the tea tray between them, as she prepared tea for the two. Once each had a steaming cup in their hands, they sat pensively for a few moments.

"Now, how did he propose?" Minerva asked.

Hermione blushed again, knowing that her bookish nature was well known and sometimes a bit much. Minerva however, had misunderstood the red hue on her daughter's cheeks.

"No, never mind," she stated before Hermione could get started. "There are some details a mother does not need from her daughter."

"Oh, it wasn't like that, mum. Geesh," Hermione admonished her before laughing softly. "He proposed in the library at our table. He asked me with an arithmancy equation."

"Ah, that's what took the boy more than three months!" Minerva exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"He came to see me over three months ago to ask for my permission to propose to you," Minerva explained, with an amused smile.

"Wow, he really does love me," Hermione mused to herself, staring at the flames.

"I'll say, the boy spent three months learning to speak your language!"

Hermione chuckled.

"Now, I hope you two are planning to wait until you've finished school for the wedding," Minerva asked, grinning teasingly as she not so subtly glancing down at the young witch's stomach.

"Sweet Merlin, I can't believe you just asked that! We took then hint well enough when you presented us with the books," Hermione assured her and rolling her eyes at her mother.

Holding up her hands in surrender, Minerva grinned at her.

"But yes, we are planning on waiting until the summer, but not long after. We know how dangerous things are getting and want to make the most of things while we can," Hermione responded sadly.

"And I cannot talk you two out of joining the Order?" Minerva inquired sadly.

"Mum, we've had this discussion. We agreed to wait until we were done with school, even though we are of age."

"I know, I know. Just checking."

"Speaking of dark times ahead. Why have you never accepted Elphinstone's proposal?" Hermione inquired gently.

"I can't marry one man, when my heart belongs to another. No matter how dire the situation," Minerva answered.

"Oh, I didn't mean that," Hermione assured her.

"I know, my dear," Minerva said, gripping her daughter's hand lightly.

"Why do you never speak of him?"

"He is a muggle and I had to make the choice between this world and his. I knew that I would never be able to give up the magical world like my mother had. Last I heard, he married a muggle woman and they have two children," the older witch explained.

"Oh mum. I'm so sorry," Hermione exclaimed softly, gripping her hand tighter.

"It is in the past, my dear. Life isn't always fair, as you well know," Minerva explained. "I'm sorry would won't have your birth parents at the wedding, but I am very honored that you consider me your mother."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I'm honored that you took me in and consider me your daughter."

The pair fell silent, sipping their tea companionably and watching the fire crackle in the hearth. With dark storms on the horizon, the simply enjoyed the time with each other.


	10. Chapter 10

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Shorter chapter, but the hope is that I will post a little more often if the chapters aren't as long. Means I don't cover all the story that I want to each chapter, but it'll work.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 10 – Danger Lurks**

 **March 7, 1995**

It had been a little over a month since Hermione had started private lessons with Professor Snape and she was already starting to feel more confident in her abilities. So far, they had mostly worked on various defensive and offensive spells. The major change was that her Professor had taught her nonverbal spell, which she took to easily. Now however, he insisted that all or her spell work be nonverbal during their lessons.

As Hermione walked down to the dungeons, she wondered if they would continue with their nonverbal dueling, or if they would be working on something new. She barely noticed that she had arrived at the door to the classroom until she had almost walked into it. Startling out of her thoughts, she knocked lightly on the hard wood.

"Enter," Severus Snape called out to her.

Upon seeing the young witch enter the room, he put his quill down, stoppered the jar of ink, and straightened the stack of essays he had been working on.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Let's get started then," Severus told her, standing and walking to the door at the back of the classroom.

Hermione followed him quietly, as he led her on their usual path through first his office, then his private sitting room, and finally through a long hallway that ended at the schools dueling hall. She had asked about the hallway connecting his sitting room and the dueling hall during their first lesson. He had simply told her that he would frequently duel with his late wife and the castle had eventually provided them with more direct access. Sensing that discussing his late wife was painful, she had dropped it.

On this night, as they entered the dueling hall, Hermione had barely pulled her wand from her the back pocket of her jeans before Severus Snape had disarmed her with a silent spell. The force of the spell stung her hand as the length of vinewood was ripped from her hand. Scowl firmly in place, she turned to the snarly Professor, prepare to challenge his methods.

"You would do better to be aware at all times. However, for tonight's lesson, you will not need your wand," Snape announced as he slipped the slender wand in one of his coat pockets. "Since you are confident and competent in nonverbal spells, we will start to work on ways for you to combat a larger opponent."

"Now, the best way to do this and what would have helped you on that night would be a nonverbal and wandless shield charm," he explained.

"But isn't wandless magic difficult to direct," she asked.

"Yes, but there are a few exceptions, and shield charms are one of them. In this case, you aren't meant to direct the magic. It tends to be a wild force that wraps around you, blocking spells, but also repelling any physical shape within the radius," Severus explained gently.

"So, you're saying that if I had been able to do this on that night ..." Hermione asked, trailing off instead of going into detail.

"Yes. It's a way to protect yourself from those that have the upper hand when it comes to physical strength," Severus answered the unfinished question. "Now, much like nonverbal spells, you are going to need to envision yourself casting the spell, using the incantation silently. However, the difference is that you won't channel the magic through your wand. Instead, you need to envision the magic coming from you core, spreading outward around you in a protective bubble."

Snape waited a moment for her to take in the information and see if she had any questions. Instead she simple nodded to him in understanding.

"Good, go ahead and give it a try. If you are successful, I'll be able to see your magic surrounding you," he explained, stepping back a few places to give her room.

Standing in the middle of the dueling hall, she tried to concentrate. Within her mind she focused in the core of her magic, then envisioned the protection of the spell surrounding her. When she felt she had a good visual, she shouted the spell in her mind - Protego.

Severus watched the young witch, giving her time to give it a solid try. He watched her inner magic very briefly spark from her core, but it fizzled out instead of becoming a proper spell. When Hermione opened her eyes, she looked at him, silently asking where she had gone wrong.

"Try it again," he insisted. "It is difficult magic and hard for your core to understand at first. As with anything, the more you try, the better you will get."

Hermione nodded with determination and tried again. And again. And again. She tried for close to any hour with no results. Severus had taken to wandering around her in a wide circle, trying to figure out what the problem was. At the half hour mark, he had come up with an idea, but he didn't like it, stalling in the hopes that he could think of something else. However, he only had one idea.

The witch had her eyes closes, working on visualizing the spell, when he came up behind her suddenly. Severus threw his strong arms around her, pulling her back, tight against him. She struggled and opened her mouth to scream, but he wrapped one large hand over her mouth, reducing the sound the muffled desperation.

He held her close to him, easily evading and countering her each attempt to escape him. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled against him, her mind no longer in the dueling room, but back by the lake, with Victor's large form on top of her, holding her tight. Suddenly the potion master's voice snapped her back to the present.

"Focus," he snarled in her ear.

She still continued to fight against him, but in her mind, she visualizes her magic surrounding her in protection, she saw her attacker's hold being broken and the person being thrown backwards by the force of her shield. Mentally, while the image was strong, she shouted the spell again.

This time, her magic surged outward, away from her, creating the bubble of protection that was the protego shield charm. Snape was thrown free of her, landing five feet away from the witch. Wincing, he sat himself up with a grin, pleased that she had successfully produced a wandless, nonverbal shield charm.

Seeing her crumpled on the floor sobbing sets him into motion. Jumping to his feet, he crossed the room to her and sunk back to the floor beside her. Severus wrapped his arms around her, pulling Hermione into his embrace. She fought against him physically, but he simple held on as gently as he could with her struggling, whispering into her hair.

"You're safe, Miss Granger. Everything is alright. You are safe," he told her, trying to bring her out of the memories he knew were playing through her mind.

Still, she struggled against him, sobbing uncontrollably. Her attempts getting weaker as she tired. Suddenly, he can feel her magic building around her.

"Hermione," Severus pleaded. "You are safe. I promise. I've got you."

He kissed and stroked her hair with his face, continuing to consul her. The memories of Victor and that cold December night faded from her mind. They were replaced by an all-encompassing warmth and soothing presence that she recognized as her professor's magic and words washing over her. The magic faded away and she collapsed into his embrace, the sobs trailing off into hiccup like gasps for breath, tears still streaming down her face.

Once she stopped fighting him, he loosened his hold. She protested slightly, but settled again as he started stroking her hair, his hand trailing through her silky curls. His free hand drifted down to her face, long fingers gently wiping away the tears. Her breathing started to come easier and the tears slowed. Noticing this, he uses one hand and gently lifted her head up so that he could look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry to have put you through that. Are you alright?" Severus asked, still holding her to him.

"I think so," Hermione responded. "I feel drained and pretty shaken up though."

"That is to be expected when reliving a trauma like that, Miss Granger," he responded.

"You called me Hermione," she stated, looking up at him, a slight question in her tone.

Reluctantly, Severus untangled himself from the witch in his arms, suppressing a pained protest. Hermione groaned, disappointed at the loss of his arms around her and the comfortable safe feeling.

"My apologies, Miss Granger. That was very unprofessional of me. I simply was concerned for your welfare," he explained, putting the mask of professor back into place.

 _She's not yours yet, Severus. Remember that_ , his mind scolded him.

Hermione couldn't hide her disappointment as he apologized for things she didn't regret. Something about the dark, snarky wizard drew her to him and she couldn't explain it. It was just one more of those gut feelings, the thoughts that led to a blank wall in her mind.

"I believe that concludes our lesson today. Your magic will be somewhat drained after producing that shield. You will feel weak and a little displaced, but that should fade and you magic recovered by the morning," Severus explained.

She nodded, annoyed by his detached tone and posture. She had liked to think they had become something of friends in the weeks he had been training her. He had been less formal and stiff, but now he had reverted to his classroom self.

"If you wish to practice your shield, there are many empty classrooms with desks you can throw around," he admitted wryly. "Just be aware of you magic and don't push yourself too hard too fast. The more you work on the wandless, wordless shield, the easier it will become and will eventually take very little magic to produce. It is useful for dislodging physical attackers as you've just witnessed, but can also be helpful of you've been disarmed and need to flee."

Pausing briefly to observe his student, he waited to see if she had any questions. When she just nodded in response, he continued.

"Well, I think that is all for this evening. Be sure to find some time to practice. I believe you'll find that you should be able to summon the motivation to accomplish the spell without ... uhm ... someone attacking you."

He led the way back through his private chambers and back to the classroom, for her to depart, the silence between them felt thick and heavy. She had arrived at the classroom door and was about to open it when he broke the silence.

"You did very well tonight, Miss Granger," Severus admitted, seated at his desk, with his focus on a pile of essays.

Hermione smiled to herself and left him to his grading, making her way back to Gryffindor Tower. While she expected they had taken a step backwards, his final statement showed her that it wasn't quite a hopeless as it has felt.

* * *

He was running faster than he ever had in his life, legs covering the distance between the headmaster's office and the entry hall in less than half the normal time. However, it had felt like it had taken him hours to cover that distance. Bursting through the front doors, he surveyed the lawn of Hogwarts spread out in front of him.

Even in the light of the full moon and the resulting silvery sheen on the grass, he didn't spot the distinct figure he was looking for. Taking off again, he stumbled down the stairs and across the lawn.

"Hermione," he screamed, fear heavy in his voice.

Breaths were ragged and gasping, and the effort it had taken him to scream out her name had his steps faltering and black dots appearing before his eyes.

A feminine scream echoed across the grounds, originating from within the Forbidden Forest. The terror drove Severus onward, angling towards the clearest path into the forest. He was just passing Hagrid's Hut and entering the trees when a second scream pierced the night. This scream however was one of agony and severe pain.

Even though he felt like he didn't have anything left in him, he plowed forward, his heavy dragonhide boots trampling the foliage and he followed the sound off the main path. His foot caught in a lifted root concealed leaves, sending the panicked potion master tumbling to the ground. He wasn't able to get his hands under him fast enough, slamming his head into the ground hard.

Ignoring the throbbing, disorientated feeling, he scrambled forward, crawling on hands and knees until he could get his feet under him. Moments later, he burst into a clearing. In the center of the clearing, the witch he sought lay, dirty and bloodied. Stumbling over to her, he knelt down next to her, studying her prone form. Her chest still rose and fell with her breaths; however, they were shallow and ragged. Jagged slashes all over, ripped apart her body and blood continued to ooze from her incredibly pale form. Her wand lay him her open hand, that plus her continued breathing proved she had been able to fight off her attacker. Grabbing her off hand in between his two larger hands, he clung to her.

"Hermione," he choked out, tears tracking down his face as he watched her face, hoping her eyes would open for him.

Severus had been working on an experimental variant of the pepper-up potion all evening. He had lost himself in his brewing and it was well into the night when he had noticed her absence. Concerned, Severus had gone to see the headmaster. The old man had taken his time telling him that Hermione had taken off into the Forbidden Forest to gather some potion ingredients during the full moon and Albus had taken it upon himself to send Remus after her to insure her safety.

It was at that moment he had leapt into action, throwing himself down the moving staircase without even bidding Dumbledore farewell. During his brewing, it had also escaped his notice that Remus, who had been staying at Hogwarts for a time, hadn't stopped in to collect his wolfsbane, per the letter Severus had sent him earlier in the day. That was how he had ended up on blooded and breathless in the dirt clutching his witch's hand.

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered, revealing pained honey brown eyes. The howl of a wolf in the distance jolted him out of his daze and he jumped into action. With a flick of his wrist, his wand dropped from its holster and into his hand. Black eyes scanned the trees for danger before he turned to Hermione.

Muttering incantations under his breath and waving his wand over his body, he started to heal the largest of the jagged wounds. Severus was watching the tear slow start stitching itself back together with such single-minded devotion, that he was shocked when Hermione's arms surged up, pushing him away.

"No," she moaned, blood bubbling up at the corner of her mouth.

"I can fix this," Severus insisted. "I can save you."

"No."

"Please don't leave me," he pleaded.

Hermione's eyes met his dark black orbs, pain and helplessness evident. He understood. Severus knew that even if he could save her, the wounds had been inflicted by a werewolf and she didn't want to live like that. Clutching her hand again in his, he pulled it into his chest.

"Please don't leave me," he repeated. We will figure something out. Don't go. I need you."

Hermione weakly squeezed his hand for a moment before her eyes fluttered closed and her arm went limp. Her chest no longer rose with breath. Severus growled and roared in agony, wrapping his arms around the witch's body and pulling her into him.

"No. I love you. I need you. I can't do this without you," he pleaded, to the lifeless body in his arms, tears dripping into her hair.

The sun was staring to break though the canopy of the forest by the time his tears had dried up. Exhausted and aching all over, he lifted himself off the forest floor, Hermione's body in his arms. Trudging through the brush, his boots weighing him down and catching on every branch, he moved toward the castle.

Miraculously, he had made it without stumbling or dropping the witch in his arms. Upon arriving in the dungeons, he entered his chambers and settled her on his bed. Severus stood beside he bed, gazing upon her for just a little longer. Eventually, with energy fueled by his rage, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the fireplace, tossing in the floo powder and emerging in the headmaster's office.

"Where is he?" Severus demanded.

"Now, calm down Severus," Albus insisted, standing from his chair. "Remus is resting. He's had a rough night."

"He's had a rough night!" Severus roared. "She is dead, Albus. Dead because that stupid wolf couldn't do one simple thing! Dead because he didn't take his stupid fucking potion. I want he fucking pelt!"

"Stop now, Severus," Dumbledore insisted, his voice raising. "I am sorry for your loss, but Remus is needed! He's the only hope we have of controlling the werewolves and getting more to take the wolfsbane potion. We cannot spare him. No one can know he was responsible."

"What?" Severus snarled. "You're just going to let him get away with it? Did you not here me, Albus? He killed her. Ripped her to shreds and the only reason he didn't tear out and eat her still beating heart was that she got a spell off at him."

"And it is a tragic loss," Albus said. "However, for the greater good, we must say nothing. We must protect Remus and find another way to explain her death."

"This is unacceptable ..." Severus started to yell, but the headmaster cut him off.

"Do not forget who you work for," Dumbledore roared. "You came to me, begging for another chance, requesting that I save you from him and the Ministry and I did. You will obey me."

Severus glared at the old man, silent and stewing in his rage, but smart enough to know when to shut up."Good," Albus said, returning to his gentler demeanor. "Now, Hermione's death is tragic, but we must cover it up. Get rid of the body and I will figure something out in the meantime. You will not speak of this."

Severus simply nodded, gritting his teeth to keep him tongue in check before flooing back to his chambers.

* * *

 **Things are not always what they seem. Hoping to have the next chapter up sooner than the last few updates to connect the dots, so hang in there with me as this story unfolds, and don't give up!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Alright everyone. Sorry for the very disconnected cliffhanger! I promise, it's the same story and it'll make sense, so don't give up on me yet. Keep reading and keep letting me know what you think! Even when I do something crazy.**

 **It's another short one, but I didn't want to keep y'all hanging too long. I hope you enjoy as we delve deeper.**

* * *

Chapter 11 – Enter the Death Eater

 **May 24, 1995**

Severus lay crumpled in a heal, sobbing uncontrollably when Minerva arrived through the floo. Greatly concerned, she instantly settled herself on the floor next to him, pulling the distraught wizard into her embrace. Slowly, she rocked him back and forth, whispering words of comfort to him.

"It's alright lad. Whatever it is, it will be alright," she told him.

Slowly, Severus came back to himself, still clearly upset, but more coherent.

"Now, what is this all about?" the older witch asked him.

Rolling up his sleeve, he displayed the prominent and obviously irritated dark mark on his left forearm. Minerva gasped in shock.

"He's so close to coming back and Albus doesn't think that there will be any way to stop him this time. Now, it's just a waiting game and by the fact that the mark is irritated and painful without prompting, for the first time since it was applied, we won't be waiting long," Severus explained.

He paused, ducking his head behind is long black hair to avoid her gaze before admitting.

"Albus suggested I prepared and create a memory of my Hermione's death to show the Dark Lord because he knows that the question will come up. The hope is that it will cement my loyalty to the cause after so many years. He, uh, suggested I make Remus her killer."

"Oh," Minerva uttered in shock.

It had been hard enough on both of them to pretend that their Hermione had died, more so on Severus as her husband, since it was lesser known that she had raised the witch. However, the thought of fabricating the image of her death, not only by the hands off one of their closest friends, but at the mercy of a werewolf, was devastating.

"Let me see," McGonagall insisted.

Severus stiffened in her grasp.

"You don't want to see her like that. Fake or not, it is still a memory I created. My ability with the mind magics and ability to create realistic enough memories to fool the greatest Legilimens was part of the reason I was selected to spy among the death eaters. It will feel entirely to real," he explained.

"I want to see. I want to help and support and I cannot without having all the information," she said, before adding to lighten the mood. "Besides, I cannot imagine suitable punishments for our esteemed headmaster if I do not witness all the crimes he had committed."

Severus slumped again, clearly giving in to the older witch. Producing a vial from his robes, he pressed his wand tip to his skull and withdrew the shiny strand of memory, depositing it into the vial. He passed it to his mother-in-law, tears reappearing, not wanting her to see the horrible death he had needed to produce for her draught.

Gently, she took the vial, setting it on the closest surface, and then encouraged the younger man off the stone floor. Once she had deposited him in his chair, she took the memory and followed it into his pensive.

What had felt like hours later to Severus, but in reality, had only been moments, Minerva emerged, stumbling backwards into the couch. Seated haphazardly on the couch, she was clutching her chest and had tears streaking down her face. After quite a long time of silence, she asked.

"The fight with Albus?"

"Real words between us. Crafted for the purpose of making me despise the light even more, after he had insisted on the circumstances of her fabricated death. The key to making memories is to use as much real memories and adjusting them to fit," Severus explained, slipping into his lecturing tone.

"That man has a pile of sins several mountains high to atone for when all is said and done," Minerva muttered, still clearly shaken from seeing her daughter mauled.

"Indeed, he does," Severus insisted. "But in my role as spy for the Death Eaters, I must be above reproach and have an answer for everything."

* * *

 **July 1978**

"Damn it all, we've lost too many of our own recently and only managed to capture a single death eater," James Potter declared with anger. "We need some kind of advantage over them! Benjy, Dorcas, and the Prewett brother will have died in vain if we don't find a way in!"

The Order of the Phoenix sat in the main room of the Hogshead, silent and contemplative after James' passionate declaration. Aberforth stood behind the bar, wiping it down with a questionable rag, pointedly staring at his brother. Alastor Moody sat in a chair by the door, ever vigilant even though the entrance was warded and locked up tight. He rubbed his aching leg, the fairly new wooden attachment, courtesy of Voldemort, hurt like hell. The rest of the room was filled with various members, settled into little groups.

After a time, all eyes turned to their leader. Dumbledore sat near the fireplace, fiddling with a small tin of lemon drops. Ignoring the stares, he popped one in his mouth, thoughtfully sucking on the sour treat.

"We need a spy and there's only one Slytherin in this room, so the choice is obvious," stated a rather subdued Sirius Black.

The normally arrogant and loud Gryffindor slouched in his chair, his messy black hair partially covering his scowling face.

An immediate uproar followed his words. Hermione and Minerva were the first to their feet, shouting down the marauder. The Longbottoms, some of the older members, Alastor, Lily, Remus, and even James himself objected to the idea. Chaos had broken out over the room, though, no one had noticed that Severus Snape had nothing to say in his own defense.

"You can't send him into that viper's nest."

"He might be a snake, but he is one of us."

"We don't sacrifice our own."

"Silence," Dumbledore demanded.

Heads turned his way before one by one they returned to their seats, Hermione being the only one still standing.

"We're losing people constantly and you want to just throw one of our own to the death eaters!" She shouted at Sirius. "He may be a Slytherin and you may not like it, but he is my husband and I'm not about to let him walk willingly to his death."

With his wife on the verge of hexing one of her friends, Severus gently grabbed he wrist and pulled her down into the chair beside him, wrapping his arms around her.

"Do anyone have a better idea? Snape may not be my favorite person, but we've put most of the childish school pranks behind us. I don't want to see him die any more than I want to lose anyone in this room, but we are floundering and blind," Black insisted.

"I think that is enough for today. The idea had been thrown out there, but nothing will happen unless Severus agrees. Let him think about it and we will bring it back up at next week's meeting," Dumbledore determined. "Now, before we depart, a wand oath from each of you that the details of this meeting will only be discussed with members of the order and in secure locations."

The gathered members agreed, swearing on their magic before everyone stood up and prepared to depart. Some of the members immediately moved to the fireplace, flooing away. Others gathered in groups to chat. The Longbottom's approached Severus, Hermione and Minerva.

"Don't pay Sirius any mind, mate," Frank Longbottom said, patting Severus on the shoulder. "We'll figure something else out."

Severus just nodded, taking Hermione's hand and leading her towards the fire. Tossing the floo powder in, the disappeared to McGonagall Manor, in the most north east corner of Scotland. Minerva walked out of the flames shortly after the newlywed couple.

"Mr. Black was completely out of his mind," Minerva insisted.

"Let's leave it for now," Severus ordered softly. "We all need some sleep."

Later that night, Severus entered the room he shared with his wife from the bathroom, wearing only black lounge pants hung low on his slender hips, his long hair still slightly damp from his shower. Hermione sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, with a book in her hands.

Severus crawled up from the foot of the bed, laying so that his head was laying in her lap, his arms wrapped around her. Marking her page, Hermione closed the book and set it on the nightstand. Gently, she ran her fingers through his hair, smiling as he hummed in appreciation and closed his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" She inquired softly.

"That we don't have any other options," Severus admitted, sighing heavily.

"We have other options, Severus," Hermione insisted, tears starting to gather in her eyes.

"Fine," he conceded. "We don't have any other good options."

His wife stayed silent, her hands stilling in his hair. Slowly he sat up, sitting cross legged on their bed.

"I'm still friends with Lucius, Evan, Corban, Rabastan, and Regulas. Fredrick Avery and Grayson Mulciber are dogs, but consider me a friend. No one outside of the Order knows of my involvement since I my job is to make potions. They remember the bullying I received from the marauders during school. Aside from my marriage to you, I have no suspected involvement with the light. Since Minerva is a half blood and no one know that you're adopted, it is considered acceptable," Severus explained, looking into her eyes.

Tears started to fall as she listened to him. She knew that he had made up his mind and that she wouldn't be able to sway him.

"I want to help make our world safe," he told her, pulling her into his arms. "It will never be as long as Voldemort and the Death Eaters are ravaging it. I want a home of our own, I want to watch your stomach grow big and beautiful with our child, watch our children grow up, and I want to grow old with you."

"And you think that the way to accomplish that is to join his ranks?" Hermione spat, angered by him using the life they had envisioned together as an excuse. "If he even suspects that you are a spy, he will kill you, painfully. Aside from that, his people torture, rape, and murder people."

"It is mostly dogs like Avery, Mulciber, and Dolohov that do that. I have talents that he needs, much like my position here in the Order. And he won't suspect me," Severus responded.

"It's rumored that he is the greatest Legilimens ever. I know you are a talented Occulmens, but do you truly believe you can match him?"

"Yes, I can match him and more. I can do this, love," Snape insisted.

"I don't want you to do this," Hermione admitted, nuzzling into his neck. "I can't lose you."

Severus sighed deeply, holding onto his witch. He knew that he was the only one that could infiltrate Voldemort's ranks. He knew that they needed a way to counter him. He had lost many friends in the last few months and wanted to avenge them. However, he also knew he couldn't say no to his witch.

"Alright, my love. We will just have to find another way," Severus answered.

Hermione relaxed in his arms, her lips grazing his neck briefly before she started kissing her way down his chest. Severus responded eagerly, laying her down on the bed, lips clashing down upon hers in a desperate struggle to forget.

After their lovemaking, he laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, with his witch wrapped up in his arms. He would have to talk to Dumbledore soon, let him know his answer, so that they could consider other options.

Sleep evaded Severus that night, so he simply held Hermione, running his hands slowly up and down her bare back, nuzzling and kissing her hairs, while wishing the war would end soon, so they could really start their life together.

* * *

"Have a seat, my boy. Would you care for a lemon drop," Dumbledore offered, gesturing to the bowl of round, yellow sweets on his desk.

"Thank you, but no, sir," Severus responded, sneering at the offering.

"Then, what is it that you wanted to discuss?" Albus inquired.

Severus fidgeted in the luxurious wing backed chair before the Headmaster's desk. After his talk with Hermione the night before, he had figured that he had better speak with Dumbledore right away.

"I wanted to let you know, that I thought long and had about the yesterday's suggested. Hermione and I discussed it and I cannot be the spy," Severus admitted.

"I'm disappointed to hear that, my boy," Albus told him, using the tone he would when disciplining students. "The number of Order deaths had been increasing rapidly, but little progress in rounding up and stopping the Death Eaters. Our only hope is to have someone on the inside to feed us information."

Snape slouched in the chair and bowed his head, feeling much like he had every time he and the marauders had been presented to the Headmaster after getting into a fight or trouble. He could feel the disappointment rolling off the powerful wizard that he respected greatly.

Dumbledore could see the young man before him struggling with the decision. He didn't dare attempt to slip into his mind, knowing that Snape's defenses were phenomenal and any attempt would be immediately detected. Albus needed to keep Severus pliable and willing to do whatever it took to gain approval, not on the defensive. The Headmaster's twinkling blue eyes bore into the top of his head.

"It is quite a shame. You have all of the right connections and talents to be a great asset to Voldemort. He wouldn't even think twice about your involvement, simply welcoming you into his ranks," Albus said. "I had thought that you were strong enough to do what needed to be done. For the greater good."

"I am strong enough," Severus insisted, his features hardening in a look of pure determinations.

"Then maybe you would be willing to reconsider? The Order needs you," Dumbledore insisted, playing on the need to fit in and be valued he knew the young man struggled with.

"Yes sir, I will do this," Severus insisted, all thought of Hermione's pleading for his to decline ignored.

"Good!" Albus praised him. "I think you should go see your Slytherin friends this evening. The sooner you can invade his ranks, the better. Your contribution will be crucial to victory for the side of light."

Severus nodded, departing the Headmaster's office with a feeling of purpose and acceptance. He would seek out Lucius. The Malfoy heir had been trying to sway him for months now. A few drunks together and this time, Severus would agree with his not so subtle hints and accept his offer.

* * *

The interior of the tavern in Knockturn Alley where Lucius had suggested they meet was as dark and dingy as the alley itself. Severus was surprised that the young Malfoy would even step foot into a place like this, but he immediate saw the man's platinum blond hair in the back, corner table, even before being beckoned toward him.

Seating himself at the dark, corner table, Severus was surprised by the shot of fire whisky that had been slid towards him by the primped and polished wizard beside him. Throwing back the shot, he set the glass back on the table and grinned.

"Good to see you, Lucius. Though, I'm surprised by the location. It seems beneath you," Snape sneered.

"Well, the upside to questionable establishments such as this one is the privacy," Lucius explained, with a quirk of his lips. He tossed back his own shot of whiskey and waved at the bartender for another round. "Drinks are on me tonight, my friend. It's been too long since we've seen each other."

That it has. How is Narcissa doing?" Severus asked politely, tossing back the next shoot immediately as it was poured.

He would never let it show, but he was incredibly nervous and hoped the drinks would help settle him. Severus needed Lucius to court him tonight. If Severus seemed too eager, he'd give away the game.

Lucius waved for the waitress to just leave the bottle, pouring another shot for the young wizard himself. Tonight, he had a task to accomplish and failure was not an option. The Dark Lord had been admiring Snape from afar for a while. Tales of his talents and skills had reached Voldemort's ears for many years while Snape had been in school. The knowledge that the poor young man had been offered an apprenticeship for free immediately after his graduation had made him impatient for the Slytherin to join his ranks. Lucius needed to convince him tonight.

"She is doing well considering. We just had another miscarriage last month, but she is managing," Lucius admitted, hoping being vulnerable would help his cause. "Father is very sick and the Healer's don't believe he will recover. The pressure to produce an heir is even greater now."

"I'm sorry to hear that, my friend," Severus said, trying to console him, while taking another shot.

He was on his fifth shot now in such a short time, his head was starting to feel quite heavy, but his purpose was still in the front of his mind.

"I hear congratulations are in order however. Married and accepted as an apprentice in potions all in such a short time. I'm sure you're still reeling and reveling in it all," Malfoy said with a scandalous smirk.

"Yes, it's been a lot, but also everything I've wanted," Snape admitted.

His mind briefly turned to Hermione and her begging him not to do it. Severus hadn't had the time or the courage to tell her that the plan had changed. Things would be put in motion before they had a chance to discuss it, but it was all for the greater good, so he pushed his feeling of betraying her to the side. He was doing this to protect her and the life they dreamed of.

"Between you an me," Snape said, leaning in conspiringly. "Slughorn is accelerating my apprenticeship. He wishes to retire as soon as possible. So, a job at Hogwarts is already in my lap."

"Teaching, really?" Lucius asked. "You could be leading the field of potions in no time with your talent. Research and patenting new and improved potions is the way to go. You could make some very powerful friends with your skills."

Knowing the Lucius was dropping the bait, Severus took it.

"Oh, I wasn't aware that he had noticed me," Severus responded.

"Not noticed you? Between potions and spells you've created, you're a popular topic. He could provide you with the opportunities for true greatness. It doesn't matter that you're a half-blood, your skills are widely known throughout Slytherin house. He could use someone like you," Lucius told him, heaping on the praise without over doing it. "Let me take you to meet him. Let him show tell you about the new world he envisions, the power he will bring to wizarding kinds."

Severus stayed silent for a moment, staring deep into the nearly empty bottle of fire whiskey on the table, as if contemplating it. Reaching out, he poured the rest of the bottle into his glass, then tossed it back quickly. Turning back to Lucius, he sealed his fate with three words.

"Sure. Arrange it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

* * *

Chapter 12 – Enter the Death Eater

 **July 1978**

"Tell me you didn't?"

Severus stopped in his tracks, standing in the dark doorway. With the late hour and the darkness of their chambers, he had assumed that she was already sleep. A flick of her wand and the lights in the room flickered to life. Hermione sat on their bed, he legs cross in front of her, while she fiddled with the fabric of her pajama pants, with her head bowed and her hair concealing her face.

"Didn't what?" He asked, but the burning in his arm made him feel guilty for playing dumb when she clearly already knew somehow.

"Don't. Dumbledore stopped by earlier to thank me for your contribution to the cause," Hermione explained, lifting her head to reveal red, puffy eyes, and glistening tear tracks down her face. "And here, I was under the impression that we had agreed that you wouldn't."

She received her answer, when he clutched at his burning left forearm. He looked guilty as the wheels turned in his head, trying to figure out what to say.

* * *

When he had met up with Lucius earlier in the night, he hadn't expected his request for a meeting to be granted immediately. They had left immediately from the bar and apparated to the Avery Manor, where the Dark Lord had been holding court.

Stepping into the dimly lit ballroom, he had instantly known that there would be no turning back. Lucius had led him to the small dining table at the far end of the hall where a small group dined.

"Ah, Lucius, so good to see you! I wasn't aware we were expecting you tonight," a handsome young man greeted him. "Who have you brought with you?"

Severus had stood slightly behind Lucius, but tall and proud as he observed the exchange. He recognized several of the members around the table. The younger Avery, who he had been in his same year at Hogwarts, Avery Sr and his wife, Bellatrix, who had been in her 7th year when Severus had arrived as a 1st year, and finally, Rabastan Lestrange, who had been in the same year as Lucius.

It left the last two occupants of the table easy to guess. Sitting between his brother and his wife was Rodolphus Lestrange, the family resemblance evident. Which left none other than the Dark Lord himself, Tom Riddle, at the head of the table.

"My lord, as per your request, I've brought you Severus Snape. With his interest in the cause, I assumed you would want no delay in my arranging the meeting," Lucius said.

Severus was concealed any shock at hearing that Riddle had requested him with practiced ease, simply watching the proceedings with an air of arrogance. It shouldn't have surprised him that he had been desired. As a Slytherin with considerable skill in potions that Slughorn often called genius, it wasn't too farfetched that word had traveled.

Briefly, he let that feeling of being wanted consume him, remembering all too well how he had strived for it his entire childhood, letting that power fill him up, but then memories of Hermione and her desire for him brought his feet back to the ground. He knew Riddle wanted him for what he could do and provide while Hermione wanted him for him, and he knew which feeling he preferred.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Snape," Riddle responded, his voice smooth and almost sickeningly sweet. "I hear that you have quite a talent for potions. Why don't we take the business discussion into the study?"

Standing, he turned towards the others at the table, "If you will excuse us. Enjoy your dinner."

With that, he led the way towards a concealed door at the back of the ballroom. Before moving to follow, Severus noted that Bellatrix Lestrange was glaring at him with a look at could freeze fire, while Rodolphus looked rather pleased.

Once in the study, Riddle gestured to chairs by the fire for Lucius and Severus while summoning a house elf to pour the fire whiskey. Severus took a cursory sip of the whiskey, appreciating the expensive quality as if slid down his throat with ease.

"I'm not quite sure what I did to upset Madam Lestrange, but she seemed particularly cross with me," Severus admitted, citing his concern at her look.

Lucius barked a laugh while Tom let out an appreciative chuckle at his observation before responding.

"Your arrival foiled her plans I'm afraid. Bella is simply disappointed that she won't be recieving an invite to my rooms this evening, while I'm sure Dolpho is glad for the fact he doesn't have to sit by while I take his wife to bed," Riddle explained with a smirk.

Severus took this information and filed it away for later, knowing it could be important, as could anything ever said at a meeting with Voldemort. His mental shields were on high alert, knowing of the man's mental abilities, ready to show him what he wanted to see.

"I'm glad that Lucius has brought you here this evening. You see, I had given him the special task to acquire you, as it were," Tom explained, slowly sipping his drink with a thoughtful expression. "I'm quite impressed with the speed at which he swayed you given your previous distance, but your power and abilities are undeniable."

Without warning, Severus felt the Dark Lord enter his mind, essentially blasting through the front door and filling Severus with an array of mental pain, feeling much like hundreds of splinters puncturing him. While many of his skills were well known, Snape's abilities as an occulmens and legilimens were a secret from the dark.

The pain of the invasion compromised his ability slightly, but he maintained his shields and led Riddle on the merry chase of memories that showed him exactly what he was looking for. Riddle saw Snape's childhood, his abusive muggle father, nasty muggle neighbors in his poor northern town. Severus showed him the Marauders, picking on him from practically the moment he had arrived at Hogwarts because he was a Slytherin.

Many nights in the hospital wing, but he had always given as good as he had gotten and worse. Saint Dumbledore ignored the incidents, believing his precious Gryffindors and that Severus to be the instigator, punishing him while the Marauder got off without any punishment.

Pushing further, Riddle searched for more, latching on to any thread of emotion or supposedly distracted thought and pulling it into view. He did all of this as roughly as possible, enjoying the look of pain on Severus' face as he essentially raped his mind. Of all his skills and talents, Riddle valued his skill as a legilimens the most as if gave him the most power over others.

Despite the pounding, driving, splitting pain, Severus only offered up the memories he wished to be seen, protecting his secrets in a mental vault. He offered up snippets of his theoretical debates on dark magics, altering them slightly to let his enthusiasm show. He gave memories of developing spells of questionable loyalty when the Marauders pushed him too far.

After what had felt like hours, Riddle finally withdrew from his mind, seemingly satisfied with all he had witnessed. He saw a young Slytherin much like himself, fascinated with the darker aspects of magic, hatred and anger bred in the way Snape had been used and abused by almost every person in his life. He also saw immense power and a drive to control.

As if he had never invaded his mind, or enjoyed the pain he caused on doing so, Riddle ran a hand through is beautifully tousled dark hair, composing his face back into a mischievous smirk that made him look younger and even more handsome.

"So, I hear that you are apprenticing with old Slughorn?" Riddle had inquired, even though he had seen it in Snape's mind.

"Yes sir," Snape responded, his voice and face composed, concealing any sighs of discomfort or pain. "He has me on an accelerated program and I should be able to apply and earn my mastery by August next year."

"That's quite impressive, completing a four-year study on a little over a year. You must truly be as advanced as they say. However, skilled at reproducing recipes and creating your own brews are two different things. I'm in need of a potion master with imagination," Riddle told him, looking slightly put out, probably from Snape's lack of response to the pain.

"I've adjusted every brew I have been taught and several books worth of potions I taught myself to make them more effective. I already hold patents for improved and more effective versions of aging, de-aging, the antidote of veritaserum, several healing potions, and had created my own, powerful lust potion," Snape finished with an amused smirk.

Riddle laughed heartily at this. Severus was not an overly handsome man like Riddle. He didn't have the natural beauty that some men had and his nose was still considered too big for his face. However, his features were appealing in a rougher and darker manor. Still, beautiful men, like Riddle and Lucius, found his creation of a lust potion considerably amusing. Severus knew this, using it as a strength, a show of power instead of letting it invoke insecurities.

"I am pleased Severus. It seems that you are all that was promised by your fellow snakes and more," Riddle applauded. Nodding toward the ring on the younger man's left hand he continued, "I see that you are married. Your wife?"

"Half-blood, my lord. A bleeding-heart Gryffindor in the truest meanings of the words, but highly intelligent, brilliant, creative, and just as cunning and devious as any Slytherin," Severus remarked, taking pride in his wife.

"But not working for the other side?" Riddle asked, his brow furrowed. His concern trailed off into a rant, "It seems like all the House of Gryffindor does these days is breed warriors of the light, as they seem to declare themselves. As if I am the darkness. I simply want peace for wizard kind. No more fearing or hiding from the muggles when we have the power for greatness."

"Unlike all of her housemates, she never fell for the kindly, loving grandfather persona of Dumbledore's. She questioned practically his every decision in regards to the school and specifically my treatment at the hands of the Marauders. She is my most valued debater and sounding board when discussing the dark arts and the creation of spells and potions," Severus assured him.

"Hmmm, would she be useful to the cause?" Riddle inquired.

Suppressing the shudder, Snape responded, "She is starting her dual apprenticeships with the ministry. Studying both ancient runes and arithmancy. However, she is very stringently avoiding taking sides in the conflict, preferring to focus on her studies."

"Ah, but she knows you're here."

"Yes, my lord, she knows I value power and strength, and revenge against Dumbledore and his merry band of bullies. She accepts my choice," Severus assured him.

"Good. I think that I've heard all that I need to. Come my boy, kneel before me and become one of my own," Tom insisted, standing from his chair.

Internally, Severus balked. For the second time that night, things were moving far faster than he had anticipated. However, he knew he was in too deep to back out now. Setting his mostly full whiskey on the side table, he stood and crossed to kneel in front of the wizard he was about to pledge his life too.

Riddle, gently, took Snape's left arm in his hands, unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. Once the younger wizard's left forearm was exposed, Riddle gently ran the pads of his thumbs along the unmarked flesh. A gentle flex of his wrist and Riddle's wand was summoned for the sheath on his forearm and into his hand. The tip of the yew wand traced along the smooth skin before suddenly, it dug painfully into Snape's forearm while Tom recited the binding spell.

Tendrils of smoky blackness crept out of the wand, latching onto the skin and burning hot and bright as it formed into the dark mark. At this point, Severus' composure broke and he screamed as the spell made the flesh of his arm feel like it was melting off. His knees collapsed beneath him and he would have slumped to the floor, had Riddle not been holding his arm in his surprisingly strong grasp, muttering his spell while his mark burned through Snape's skin agonizingly slow.

When the mark was complete, Voldemort let go of the younger man's arm, smirking as he sunk to the floor, clutching his arm and now moaning in pain. After a short time, the Dark Lord demanded.

"Get up."

"Yes, my lord," Snape whimpered, his whole arm still feeling consumed in flame.

However, Severus still rose to his feet, standing before his new master slipping his shields back into place to mask the pain.

"Welcome to the ranks, my son," Riddle greeted him, wrapping Severus in an embrace. "Now, we celebrate! We will hold a formal celebration in your honor soon, but it is too late to summon the masses, so we'll simply put a dent in the Avery's liquor cabinet!"

Tom retook his seat, gesturing for Severus to do the same, while picking up his glass of whiskey.

"A toast! To new alliances and progress in the wizarding world!"

All three wizards drank to that, throwing back their glasses. Snapping, Riddle summoned the elf back to pour another round.

"Now Severus, your main tasks will be to create potions and spells for me. While I've seen you are a talented dueler, there is no reason to risk your potential in the field.

"The dark mark branding was a spell of my own creation. A bastardized and mixed version of older binding, marriage and slavery spells. However, the magic will bind to just anyone right now. I desire for it to be a test of true loyalty and a gift for those of my inner circle. I wish for you to develop it," Riddle explained.

"Of course, my lord, that is a wonderful idea," Severus carefully stroked the older wizard's ego. "If you could provide me with the texts you used for reference and the current spell work, I would be honored to continue your work."

"Excellent! I knew I could count on you, Severus. Now, there is one more thing."

"Yes, my lord, anything," Severus insisted, his stomach churning at the eagerness he had to portray.

"You are studying at the school and expect to take over the potions position before long as I understand it?" Riddle inquired.

"Yes, my lord. Slughorn wishes to retire after this next year."

"Very good! Now, what I want you to do, is to get close to Dumbledore. Befriend the old fool, make him trust you. Be careful not to push too hard and expose yourself, but the hope is eventually you'll be able to feed me information. Right now, we are destroying the Order of the Phoenix. However, I suspect they will start better preparing their defenses. It never hurts to play the long game though while you develop spells and potions for me," Voldemort explained.

"Of course, my lord," Severus agreed.

The three wizards sat and talked while they consumed the expensive fire whiskey and celebrated Severus' induction late into the night. It was the early hours of morning before Snape apparated home, his arm still a raging fire.

* * *

"Show me," she demanded.

Slowly and reluctantly, Severus rolled up the still loose sleeve covering his left forearm. As the blue cloth of the shirt lifted, it revealing the writhing skull and snake brand, the dark mark.

The brand was still red and inflamed. Lucius had informed him that it would remain that way for a few days and any salves or pain potions would only make it worse.

Hemione's eyes widened a fraction as she stared at the ugly black and red mark where the previously unmarked skin had been. She had wanted to believe that Dumbledore was lying to her. That he was trying to manipulate her because he had failed to get Severus on board with the plan. However, the later in the night it got, as she waited for him, the more her hope diminished. The brand on his arm however was clear.

"Get out," she snapped.

"What?" He asked, his slightly alcohol fuzzy brain not quite understanding.

"You heard me! Get out," she yelled. "I don't want you here right now."

Getting up from the bed, she shoved him back out into the hallway before pushing past him and storming towards the living room.

"Hermione, wait," Severus exclaimed, following behind her. "Will you please just listen!"

"Listen to what, Severus! Listen to you explain how you betrayed me! What excuse do you have that could be good enough?" She insisted, as she turned to go toe to toe with him.

Severus was at least a head taller than the young witch. However small though, she was fierce and a force to be reckoned with. Her wild hair sparked and crackled with wild magic.

Snape wanted to defend himself. He wanted to show her that he had done the right thing, the only thing! Unfortunately, the guilt burning through him proved all of those assertions wrong before they even tumbled from his lips. Despite his observations, opened his mouth to argue anyways.

"I did this for us Hermione! So that we can have a life free of conflict sooner rather than later! So that our friends will be alive and well at the end of this. It was the only way," he insisted.

"Severus Snape, do not lie to me! It wasn't the only way and you promised to tell Dumbledore no, but you let him get to you! Let me guess. He told you that he expected more from you, that you were the only logical choice, that refusing made you a coward? You let him push all of your buttons!"

"You weren't there, Hermione," Severus argued back, the whiskey making him angrier because she'd hit the nail on the head. "I did what I had to. I did what needed to be done."

"Without consulting your wife? The woman you promised yourself to? Your partner in all things?" Hermione demanded.

Severus was silenced, unable to argue the point further.

"You didn't come talk to me because you knew that I'd talk you out of it. You knew this plan was stupid, dangerous, and unnecessary, but Dumbledore told you everything you need to hear to justify it, so you took that and ran before someone could talk sense into you," she screamed at him.

The sound of a door opening down the hall startled them both, as Minerva wax roused by their argument. She padded the five steps into the doorway of the sitting room, watching the two carefully.

Not wanting to fight with her husband in front of her mother, Hermione turned towards the floo.

"Get out, now," she insisted again.

Grabbing a handful of floo powder and the collar of his shirt, she threw the first into the fireplace, calling out for the 'Den' before bodily shoving Severus into the green flames.

When he disappeared and the green flame died down, Hermione turned on her heel and headed back to her bedroom. She swept past her mother without a single word, slamming the door to her bedroom behind her. Minerva let her go, returning to her room, knowing she shouldn't get involved in her daughter's marriage. They would have to make their own mistakes and figure it out themselves.

Curling up on her side in the big bed, she grabbed his pillow, pulling it in close and sobbing into the fabric as she took comfort in his scent. She hadn't wanted to kick him out, but the rage burning in her had brought several dark hexes to the forefront of her mind and she wouldn't have been able to forgive herself if she had cast on him.

Returning to her bedroom, she stepped into the attached bathroom, splashing a bit of cold water on her face. Taking a long hard look in the mirror, she grew concerned, not liking the dark rage within her eyes. With a heavy sigh, she turned away and climbing into bed. After crawling under the covers on her side, she reached over and pulled his pillow to her, nuzzling her face into the fluffy mass, clinging to his scent.

Tears began to fall again and she sobbed into the pillow for a long while before exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a fitful sleep. Dreams were filled with images of her husband screaming in agony under the cruciatis curse, his body laid out and dissected like a science project, and pieces of the man she loved being delivered one at a time. Her mind coming up with all sorts of terrible and painful deaths Severus might experience if it was found out that he was a spy.

She awoke, screaming and sobbing a mere two hours later, the sheets wrapped around her tightly, making Hermione feel as if she was bound. Mentally, she had been bound and forced to watched another of her husband's potential and gruesome deaths. Her screams woke he mother again, and this time Minerva rushed to her daughter's side.

Gently tugging at the blankets, Minerva freed the younger witch and drew her into her arms. Minerva rocked Hermione gently, holding her tight and whispering reassurances into her ear, while occasionally kissing the side of her head. When the sobbing lessened, Hermione relaxed and sunk into her mother's embrace.

"I can't lose him. I'm so terrified that he'll be found out and murdered for it. Or that he'll be killed just for the hell of it one day," Hermione admitted quietly.

"My dear, you know that man of yours in a true Slytherin. He is a powerful occulmens and legilimens. If anyone can do this, it is Severus Snape," Minerva assured her.

"I'm just so mad at him. We had made a decision not to have him join Voldemort as a spy, and he turns around and does it anyway, without talking to me," Hermione vented. "When he showed up and all but admitted it, I wanted to hex him within an inch of his life."

"I understand, my dear," Minerva said. "It's a completely understandable reaction."

"It scared me though, how badly I wanted to hurt him because he'd hurt me," Hermione sighed. "I need to go to him though. Thank you, mum."

"Always, sweetheart. I'll always be here for you when you need me," Minerva responded, kissing her forehead gently before retreating back to her room.

Hermione stood from the bed, straightening her sweat drenched clothes and pulling a robe on around her. She strode to the sitting room and tossed a handful of floo powder into the dying flames. They roared back to life, - near blinding bright green color.

"The Den," she announced as she stepped into the flames.

Moments later, Hermione stepped out into the small studio that Remus rented in London. The young werewolf was awake, sitting in a chair by the fire reading, despite it being rather early in the morning. He looked up as she arrived, giving her a sad smile. Setting down his book, he stood and wrapped her in his arms, simply holding her for a few moments.

Hermione finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry for pawning him off on you," she told him.

"It's fine Hermione. When he arrived and explained what had happened, I tore him another one for you. Then, I hate to admit we broke out the booze. One benefit of being is werewolf is my metabolism, I can drink pretty much anyone under the table," he said with a playful smirk.

"Thanks for taking care of him," Hermione answered, turning to look where her husband had passed out on the couch.

Even in a drunken sleep, he looked pained. Frown lines covered his face and his sweat damp hair stuck to his face haphazardly, as if he had been struggling in his sleep.

Slowly, she kneeled down on the floor next to him, gently shaking his shoulder with one hand while wiping back the tendrils of hair from his face.

"Severus, wake up sweetie," she murmured.

Slowly, his dark eyes fluttered open, staring deep into her honey browns. A deeper frown crossed his face after recognition hit him.

"Hermione?" He questioned, his voice rough and slightly hoarse.

"Yeah, I'm here. Let's go home, love," she insisted.

"But I lied to you," he murmured, his eyes turning down.

"Yes, you did. And I have not forgiven you for it. I'm still mad. No, I'm furious and feeling betrayed. But you are my husband, you belong in our home, in our life, and we deserve a chance to work this out," Hermione admitted, somewhat disappointed with herself for her initial reaction. "I shouldn't have thrown you out. I want you to come home."

He looked back up at her, the sincerity in her eyes. "I don't deserve you or your forgiveness."

"Yes, you do. And in time, you will have my forgiveness. You are human, my love, and human's make mistakes," Hermione assured him. "Now let's get you home."

He nodded silently and helped her pick him up from the couch. His world spun violently and he felt like he was going to be sick for a moment before Hermione stabilized him. Slightly stumbling, the pair made their way to the floo. With a nod a Remus, Hermione tossed in the powder and they disappeared into the green flames.

The trip through the floo had Severus bent on two and Hermione immediately conjured a bucket, just in time as he emptied his stomach. He was swaying and about to sink to his knees when Hermione wrapped herself around him again.

"Let's get you to bed," she murmured.

The trip down the hallway took longer than normal, and Hermione had to vanish the contents of the bucket, hovering in front of Severus, several times.

However, the eventually made it to the bed, where Severus set down heavily, still fully clothed. Gently, Hermione knelt and pulled off the clunky dragonhide boots. Then, she stood in front of him, slowly unbuttoning the long-sleeved blue shirt, peeling it off his shoulders. Doing her best ignore the large, angry black brand on his left arm, she summoned a rag and bowl of water and gently wiped the sweat from his torso and face. Finally, she had him lay down in his spot, pulling his trousers off and leaving him lying on his underwear. She pulled the covers up over him before moving over to the other side of the bed, shedding her robe and climbing in beside him.

He laid still beside her, his dark eyes had been watching her the entire time she cared for him and put him into bed. Tears started as a trickle down his face quickly turned into stifled sobs and he thought about everything that had led him into his current mess. The burning in his arm persists and for the first time in a long time, he was truly scared. He had walked willingly into the snake pit and now had to convince them all that he was one of them. The cost of failure was his life and most likely the lives of those he loved.

Hermione felt and heard his sobs beside her and she reached over to him, pulling him over to sob into her chest. He clung to her as he let the tears fall, letting her be his strength. She let her tears fall again, crying with him as they both tried to come to terms with their new reality of their lives and the dangers of the war.

Eventually, the crying stopped, as the light was starting to drift in through the curtained window. Hermione rolled onto her side and instinctively, Severus rolled onto his side and scooted up behind her, draping his left arm around her. Hermione flinched slightly, knowing that even though she couldn't currently see the mark, she had seen it and knew it was there. Severus tried to pull away, realizing that her reaction was to the mark and feeling guilty.

She quickly gripped his wrist to stop him from pulling away, avoiding the irritated area and being gentle, but firm. Snuggling deeper into his body, she felt safe in his arms, as she had for years. The feelings of anger, hurt, and betrayal drifted to the back of her mind as she slipped onto sleep in her husband's arms. It took longer for Severus to find sleep, but soon the tension eased from his body and his mind knew that with Hermione at his side, he could survive anything.


End file.
